Anarchy's Cookbook
by Viscount Anarchy
Summary: A collection of stories I have written (and haven't finished) over the years. Expect anything.
1. HarryfemHarry Chapter 1

Author's Note - so here's the deal. This is going to be a deposit for various stories I've written over the years. Most of them aren't more than one chapter, a beginning, and they have been left unfinished for a variety of reasons. Those reasons vary, and could be because they are poorly written, unedited, have bad plot, are overly self-indulgent, or are just outright terrible (or a combination). That being said, I may choose to continue some of these in the future, and if I do, the chapter will be removed from here and spun off into its own story. So, YMMV

The weird Harry/fem!Harry story, chapter 1. Written 3/02/16

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For the first time in many years, Harry felt alone, truly alone. The last time he had felt this alone was probably after his first year at Hogwarts, when Dobby the house elf had been intercepting his mail, cutting him off from the wizarding world completely. That had been worse than just living at the Dursley's, friendless and ignorant of the existence of magic to begin with.

It might not have been as worse as the summer after Sirius died, but he had been in an extremely dark and angsty mental place at the time, and he didn't like to dwell on it. And, having his awful aunt and uncle was around was better than the whole world turning to shit, though just barely. His godfather's death _still_ haunted him, and there was barely a night that passed where he didn't have a nightmare about it.

But this was different. He wasn't depressed, and he wasn't moody. What he was though, was angry. Angry at Ron, for abandoning him in his time of need, again. Ron had his own head so far up his ass that he could probably taste what he had for lunch. It had been weeks ago, but the anger had never left, if anything it was only worse. He was pissed off.

Harry just didn't get where Ron was coming from. Harry had held none of his knowledge back, had told him and Hermione _everything_ he knew about what was going on. Nothing had changed since they had started their adventure, and finally, Ron had snapped and left, instead of trying to help. That was twice now, when Harry needed his best friend most, but he knew that if Ron were likely to show back up, he'd likely punch him out.

And, yet somehow the jerk had managed to convince Hermione to go with him when he left. They were putting their budding romance above figuring out how to defeat _Voldemort._ He had never seen such self-greed in his entire life… they very well could be condemning the entirety of the wizarding world because they did not stand by him when he needed them the most.

It's not as if Harry hadn't had to sacrifice a relationship. He had left Ginny high and dry at Dumbledore's funeral. He couldn't afford a distraction at this point, and that's all the younger girl would have been, but at least she was brave, whereas Ron was showing himself to be a coward. Brave and willing to help was what he needed most, right now. To stick through the toughest of times, and see an end to this ordeal.

It wasn't as if they had made no progress. They had found the real Horcrux locket, and knew a method to destroy it, the problem being that the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, being goblin made and infused with the power of basilisk venom which could destroy a Horcrux, had gone missing. They knew that Dumbledore had tried to gift it to him in his will, but the location of it was currently unknown, and the resulting argument with Ron had been the straw that broke the proverbial camel's back. They left, leaving Harry to contemplate their momentary breakthrough alone.

As Harry laid on his cot, he contemplated the futility of their efforts and how there weren't that many places Gryffindor's sword could be. Harry had last seen it In Dumbledore's office, not long before Dumbledore himself had been killed. It had been in a glass case. The sword had disappeared sometime between then, and whenever the Ministry raided the place in the summer. There weren't that many people with access, so if none of the Order members had it, and the painting of Phineas Nigellus Black had no real clue, there was only one person who would know, and that was the current Headmaster.

Snape.

Words could not describe how much Harry hated that man, but if he ever saw him, he would sure do his best to try and articulate his feelings. The man hated his father and lusted after his mother twenty years ago, and he still hated Harry because of that, twenty years after the fact. Harry was a reminder of all that. Harry had never met a more petty and spiteful human. And, he killed Dumbledore.

Harry honestly wasn't sure who he hated more, Snape or Voldemort. Prophecy dictated that he would have to face Voldemort sooner or later, but if he saw Snape, he'd probably kill him just on principle.

But from what the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black had said, Snape was clueless about the sword as well. Snape would likely be a dead end in that regards, but it was still worth thinking about. Dumbledore had trusted Snape implicitly, but not so much as to trust him with the knowledge of Voldemort's Horcruxes.

Sighing to himself, Harry clutched at the locket hanging around his neck. As unsavory as it was - the feeling of dread that came with close contact with it - there really was no better spot for the Horcrux. It was of such a vital importance that he could not risk losing it, not until they -or rather, he - had the means to destroy them once and for all.

Harry, realizing he wasn't going to get any rest with so much shit on his mind, pulled one of Dumbledore's books about Horcruxes out of a bag and into his lap, and began to thumb through it, seeing if there was some clue that they had missed. Perhaps some alternative, yet risky, means to destroy them.

It wasn't so much a book as it was a journal. It was written in a time before the printing press, and the handwriting was difficult to read at best. He could distinguish the unknown author's words from Dumbledore's notes in the margins, but there was a lot of heavy theory being written about, and Harry would be lying if he said he understood everything, or even half of everything.

If there was one thing the journal was good for, it was putting him to sleep. He must have looked through that particular journal a dozen times in the last several months, but it never failed to make him drowsy, even with how preoccupied his mind was.

As his eyes were beginning to droop, there was a sudden flash of light from outside his tent. It wasn't lightning, of that Harry was certain. It had looked like spell flare, but it hadn't been close enough for any of the defensive enchantments around his tent to go off.

With the Horcrux still around his neck, Harry got his wand out and poked his head outside the tent, looking for any sign of trouble. He half expected to see Ron and Hermione crawling back to him, and he wasn't sure what he would do if that were the case, but he didn't see them anywhere.

What he did see was a silvery glow in the distance, and as it got closer, he realized that it was a corporeal Patronus., in the form of a doe. Harry did not know anyone with that particular form, but he could not claim to know all of the Order's forms. He didn't know of a single Death Eater who could cast the spell, however, so he didn't feel particularly threatened, but he had thought himself to be in a safe, secure place.

If the Patronus had a message, he would hear it out, and then promptly pack up and leave for a new hiding spot. He couldn't risk getting caught. Perhaps it was someone who was with Ron or Hermione.

Vigilantly, Harry left the tent and walked towards the Patronus. As he got near, the silvery doe bobbed in place and darted away, before stopping in another clearing fifty feet away. Hesitantly and very wary of a trap, he followed it, where it again repeated itself, running to another spot in the distance.

The sun's last light was just leaving the forest, and it was getting dark. The Patronus was quite visible, so it was easy to follow, but he was uneasy walking through the unfamiliar forest, and he was on edge. He was alone, and if he got attacked, he would be in trouble.

Eventually, the silvery Patronus stopped at the edge of a lake, gestured with its head towards the water, and promptly disappeared. Hesitantly, Harry crept forward, wand at the ready. When he got to the edge of the lake, he carefully peered into the depths, only for his eyes to widen when he saw something glinting down on the bottom.

It was the Sword of Godric Gryffindor, the very same one he had just been thinking about. If that wasn't an omen, he didn't know what was.

"Accio sword!" Harry tried, but he was not terribly surprised that it did not stir. It was goblin-made, handcrafted before Hogwarts even existed. It was a powerful magical artifact, and such a simple spell was unlikely to work on it. So, he did what any true Gryffindor would do.

It wasn't a very deep lake, and quickly, Harry was shucking off his clothes. First his shirt, then his shoes and pants were tossed aside, leaving him in his underwear and the locket. He carefully took off his glasses and laid them down on his shirt, along with his wand.

Staring down at the water, Harry gulped. But, he realized there was no use in putting off the inevitable. The sooner he went in, the sooner he could get out.

Jumping in feet first, Harry let out a surprised gasp as he plummeted to the bottom. The water was cold, really cold. Colder than the Black Lake had been during the second task of the Triwizard Tournament.

Within seconds, Harry could feel his body going hypothermic, and his limbs locking up. Regardless, he pushed himself downwards, using his meager swimming abilities to reach the bottom, which couldn't have been more than ten feet. It was more like a pond, rather than an actual lake.

He reached for the hilt of the sword, his fingers already turning blue from the cold. But when he came within a foot of the sword, he suddenly felt himself choking. The chain of the locket was tight against his neck, digging in deeply. He immediately brought his hands up to his neck, trying to get his fingers underneath the chain, all while kicked his feet trying to find the bottom of the lake to push up off of, but he found neither the bottom of the pond, nor purchase on the chain.

It kept strangling him, and he was wasting oxygen as he tried to pull the damn thing off but it was of no avail. A flurry of bubbles left his mouth as he panicked, and he could feel his body going numb and his vision dimming. He knew then that he was going to drown.

Just as he was about to pass out, something splashed into the water near him, and he felt a pair of arms grab hold of him, and a few seconds later, he was laying on his on the ground, coughing up water after the locket had been removed from his neck. He felt a pair of hands on his chest, checking to make sure he wasn't going to die in that moment.

"What were you thinking?" A surprisingly feminine voice asked from beside him. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, but he couldn't place it.

Dazed and still spitting up water, Harry turned to get a better look at his savior. His vision without his glasses was quite bad, but he could vaguely see a female with long red hair. "Ginny?" he asked with confusion. "What - what are you doing here?"

"I'm not Ginny," the girl said, laughing slightly. She then deftly bent over and placed his glasses onto his face, resting them perfectly.

He blinked twice with his glasses and watched very carefully as the girl stood back up straight. She had shucked her robes off near where Harry's were, but she was still in her shirt and pants, which were wet and hung very, _very_ tightly to her body.

"No, definitely not Ginny," he said dryly, staring at the girl's chest which had just moments ago been right in front of his face.

A light blush crossed the girl's face as she immediately set about to applying drying charms to both of them. As he was recovering from the ordeal, he couldn't help but stare at the girl. He quickly realized that beyond the red hair, she didn't have any resemblance to Ginny at all, and even then, their hair color wasn't _that_ similar. The traditional Weasley hair color was a reddish-orange that was garrish at times, and clashed with everything. This girl's hair was a deep, luscious red, and when wet, hung down to her waist.

She was also tall, nearly as tall as himself he reckoned, and he had gone through a growth spurt recently. It was also clear that she was quite a bit more developed than Ginny. Ginny had a decent bust, of that Harry was relatively sure, but he wouldn't have ever considered them large. This girl was a different story, as with her wet shirt clinging tightly to her body, he'd rank them firmly above average. Firmly and perkily above average.

Then, there was her face. She was very pretty, but it was her eyes that drew him in. She was squinting slightly, a look he was very familiar with himself, as it was the look of someone without their glasses. But it was her eyes… they were a very familiar green color.

"Who _are_ you?" Harry asked after a moment.

"No guesses for your savior?" she asked, with a questioning gesture. "I know who you are, of course. Harry Potter, Chosen One, The Boy-Who-Lived."

"I've never seen you before," Harry admitted. "You're very pretty, so I would think I'd have noticed you around Hogwarts."

"We've never met," she said, looking away from him. "Mostly, because I'm not from around here. I'm not from this dimension."

"Uh, what?"

"I'm not from this dimension," she repeated. "I'm not _exactly_ sure what Professor Dumbledore did, but he did something with a strange device he had crafted. There was a ball of light, and it suddenly flew into me, knocking me out. The next thing I know, I'm here fishing you out of a pond. I would have thought my alternate self would be smarter than to dive into a pond in the middle of winter with no protection, and while wearing a Horcrux. What were you thinking!"

"I wasn't thinking," Harry admitted. "My thoughts were jumbled and clouded - hey, what do you mean, alternate self?"

"Exactly what it sounds like," she said a bit impatiently. "I am _you_ , from a different dimension. I am Victoria Lily Potter, daughter of James and Lily Potter, Chosen One, The Girl-Who-Lived, and all around badass."

"Ok.." Harry said slowly. "And assuming I believe any of that, which I don't, why exactly are you here?"

"I'm here to help you defeat _him_. And, apparently, I'm also here to ensure you don't get yourself killed. Good job with that by the way. What exactly were you doing?"

"The Sword of Godric Gryffindor is in the water," Harry said. "I need it to destroy the locket."

"The Sword of - how did that get in - nevermind, I don't think I want to know," Victoria said, shaking her head and walking back over to the edge of the water. She had finished drying the both of them off, mostly, and had shrugged her robes back on, along with her own set of glasses, though hers were actually fashionable.

Harry wasn't sure what to think of her story, or what he thought about the girl herself. On one hand, she was astonishingly pretty… but if she was just him for an alternate dimension, what exactly did that mean? She had seemed familiar at first glance, but as he thought about it, she did sort of look like a mix of himself and the pictures he had of his parents. There was a distinct similarity, but the whole idea of an alternate dimension… that was absurd.

"This… this is crazy," Harry said. "I don't know if I believe you or not, but regardless, I need that sword to destroy this thing."

"That's fine, but this isn't really the place for a discussion of that sort," Victoria said. She then pulled out her wand and pointed it at the water. "Accio sword!"

Nothing happened, just like nothing had happened when he tried it. "That was the first thing I tried as well," Harry said.

"It was worth a try," the girl said, shrugging. Then, she waved her wand in another gesturing, and a long line of rope shot out of the end, sinking down into the lake on her command. The end of it wrapped around the hilt of the sword, and she started pulling the line up, and a few seconds later, the sword popped out of the water and landed at her feet.

Silently, Victoria dispelled the rope and grasped the sword with one hand, examining the make of it. "Huh, pretty cool," she said, peering at the Godric Gryffindor's name emblazoned on the blade.

"I… I never thought of doing that…" Harry said, staring at the red-haired girl in surprise.

"We'll, you just need to think with your head sometimes, not your heart," she said, holding the sword in one hand and helping Harry up off the ground with the other. She was surprisingly strong. "You're a Gryffindor, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Harry said, walking with Victoria's support. While Harry had estimated her to be near his height, standing next to her now, he wouldn't have been shocked to learn that they were _exactly_ the same height. "What house are you?"

"Ravenclaw," she said. "Now, you're going to have to direct me to wherever it is you're staying."

"Not too far," Harry said, stumbling along. "There's a clearing next to an old birch. There's a lot of charms hiding it, but you can be pulled inside by someone who knows where it is."

"Clever piece of work," Victoria said.

"It's kept me alive so far," Harry said. They were getting close. "But Hermione discovered it… I can't take credit. She and Ron both ran away though…"

"Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley?" Victoria asked incredulously. "They're… together, here?"

"I guess," Harry said. "I don't really understand how it happened. They're not your friends from where you came from?"

"They're both Gryffindors, and I'm in Ravenclaw. No, my best friend is Padma Patil."

"Ah," Harry replied. "I took Padma's sister Parvati to the Yule Ball. Nice girl, but I didn't treat her the greatest. Didn't really know anything about girls back then. Still don't, really."

"Boys are clueless about most things," she replied, rolling her eyes. "How much farther?"

"Ten feet, we're right on the border. Hold on to my hand," Harry said. She did so, and the tent popped into view as they crossed over the boundary of the protective charms.

"Not a bad defense you got here," she replied upon seeing the tent pop into view. "I'm guessing there's an expansion charm on the tent?"

"Yeah," Harry said. "The Weasley's acquired it from some bloke at the Ministry for the World Cup, and the bloke didn't want it back, so Hermione asked to borrow it…"

"I see," she said, following Harry inside. The inside was quite a bit larger, but no one would call it luxurious. Most things were still packed away, or easily packable, if they had to quickly move.

"We had been staying at Grimmauld Place, but during one of our escapes, we accidentally apparated Yaxley with us, and he saw the house, so we couldn't stay there any longer. That was several months ago, and we've been on the run ever since, trying to stay one step ahead."

"How long have your friends been gone?" Victoria asked, looking around the inside of the tent.

"Nearly a month," Harry replied, sighing. "I've been trying to not think about it, and I've been trying to figure out where the rest of the Horcruxes are…"

"That's why I am here," Victory said. "I was sent to help you, but first, you should change into something warm. Charms can only do so much."

Harry nodded and began going through his clothes, taking out the cleanest set he had. He only paused to stare as Victoria began to do the same, pulling out her own bag of holding and taking a fresh set of clothes out. He did not expect her to shuck off her robe right there and then, and immediately take off her shirt, revealing many fine inches of pale, smooth skin.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Harry asked.

"I'm changing," she said. "What does it look like?"

"Right… here?"

"Are you prudish?" Victoria asked, turning around to face him. "I _am_ you, and you are me, so what does it matter?" Harry's eyes nearly popped right out of his skull as he saw the incredible body before him, clad in a blue bra that barely seemed able to hold in their goods.

At first, Harry had compared her to Ginny, when Victoria had been in a soaking wet shirt and a pair of pants, but seeing her in just her bra, they couldn't have been more different. Just calling them "large" felt too plain, as if he was doing a disservice. "Amazing" or "daaaamn" would be more adequate adjectives.

And her delicately pale skin… her slender frame… her taut stomach…. Harry was struggling to take her eyes off her, and he wasn't sure what he was supposed to be feeling in this situation. If she really was a female version of himself… what would that even be considered? Harry quickly stowed that thought away.

"Something wrong?" she asked, raising one trimmed red eyebrow.

"No, not really…" Harry said. "I just didn't think the female version of myself would be so…"

"So….?"

"So damn hot," Harry sighed, burying his facing in his hands with shame. To his surprise, she laughed, though there was a light blush on her face.

"Don't tell me you're a virgin," she said.

"Um, not as such…" Harry replied, trailing off.

"I see. Let me guess, since I take after my mother, Lily, preferring to spend my time reading, learning magic, and discovering the world I grew up without, you take after your father, James, focusing on quidditch and chasing girls."

"No, that's not it at all," Harry said quickly. He wasn't sure why he was feeling so truthful with this person he just met. He hadn't ever mentioned what he was about to say to Ron or Hermione "I enjoy Quidditch, but I'm rubbish with girls. There's only been one."

"Tell me it wasn't that Ginny girl, your best friend's sister," she implored.

"No, it wasn't her, though it wasn't for her lack of trying," Harry replied.

"Who then?" Victoria asked curiously.

"Luna Lovegood," Harry said.

" _Really_?" she asked, this time laughing for real.

"Yeah, why? You don't believe me?"

"No, it's not that. It's just that she was my first as well."

Harry stared at her, slightly disbelieving, and in shock, as Victoria nonchalantly finished changing, right in front of him. The shock of her statement didn't stop him from staring at her incredibly fine ass though. He could _not_ believe this was happening to him.

Eventually, Harry regained his voice, but only after he had on a warm, heavy robe and she was sitting down in a chair across from him. "Why are you here?" Harry asked.

"I guess it's story time, then?" Victoria replied, shrugging as she did so. "There's not much to say. Professor Dumbledore and I had been researching ways to defeat Tom Riddle, You-who-who. We learned of his Horcruxes, but we could not discern how many there were, and all attempts at coercing Professor Slughorn, our only lead, into telling us, failed. That's not even to say that what Slughorn knew and what Riddle actually did would be the same, so it left us in a bit of a situation. Our solution was to work around them, so Dumbledore told me of the Deathly Hallows -"

"The what?" Harry asked, confused.

"Dumbledore didn't tell you about them?" She asked.

"No, he died at the end of last year. We had recovered one of the Horcruxes, but when we got back to Hogwarts, it was overrun with Death Eaters. Dumbledore was extremely weakened from bypassing the protections on the Horcrux - it was this Horcrux, actually," Harry said, pointing to the locket. "That, coupled with the curse he was afflicted with from destroying the Horcrux in the Gaunt ring - he was extremely weak. He called for Snape's aid, but when he got there, Snape ended up killing Dumbledore instead."

"Wait, Snape - Snape killed Dumbledore?"

"Yeah, it was awful."

"Fuck. I've always hated that man, and he's always hated me, for no real reason."

"Yeah. He's always held a grudge against me because of a prank my father did on him over twenty years ago… and he showed his true allegiance that night in the Astronomy Tower I will kill him, if I get the opportunity."

"I've always had the urge… but he's always seemed petty and pathetic, rather than malicious."

"So, I take it your Dumbledore is still alive?" Harry asked. "And he told you about these… Deathly Hallows?"

"Alive and kicking," Victoria confirmed. "He's got a bit of an interesting past, you know? Anyways, he told me the story of the Hallows, and how when he was younger, he dreamed of collecting them all, as did his friend at the time, Gellert Grindelwald. The Deathly Hallows were created, in Dumbledore's opinion, by the three Peverell brothers, and they are extremely powerful magical objects."

"Never heard of the Peverells either," Harry admitted

"Extremely old family - a lot of our kind can track our history to one of the Peverell brothers, so there's not much prestige in being related… Anyways, there's three Hallows; the Elder Wand, an extremely powerful wand, the Resurrection Stone, which is said to allow you to bring back the dead, and the Cloak of Invisibility, a cloak that can hide you from everything."

"There's no magic that can bring someone back from death," Harry replied.

"Riddle did it, did he not? It's not normal to exist without a body, yet he did, for fourteen years. Anyways, we only ever located two of the three. The Elder Wand has a recorded history that's been causing bloodshed for centuries - it's also known as the Deathstick or Wand of Destiny."

"I think I've heard of that," Harry commented.

Victoria nodded. "As it turns out, Grindelwald somehow got a hold of it, and when Dumbledore defeated Grindelwald…"

"Wait, are you saying _Dumbledore_ has that wand?"

Victoria nodded again. "Catch on quick, don't you? It's an extremely powerful wand, but it's not infallible, not by itself. Now, as it turns out, Dumbledore had actually possessed two Hallows, at one point in time. There was a span of about ten years when he had both the Wand and the Cloak, but his search for the Resurrection Stone turned up nothing. The Cloak, as it turns out, had been passed down through a family, the direct descendants of Ignotus Peverell, and Dumbledore thought the Resurrection Stone could have a similar story, but the trail runs cold."

"Who has the Cloak then?" Harry asked curiously.

"Why, we do, of course," Victory replied, smirking. "Assuming that Dumbledore returned our father's cloak to you when you came to Hogwarts…"

"Yeah…" Harry said, surprised at the revelation "But…"

"It's awfully good, isn't it?" she said. "Looks brand new, and normal invisibility cloaks don't last more than five or ten years."

Harry frowned. "It's not perfect though. I've been caught at least twice with it -"

"Moody with his eye, and Dumbledore with a spell, right?"

Harry nodded.

"It's like I said. None of the pieces are infallible without the others. Good, but not unbeatable."

"Hm, I see," Harry replied. "So, you never managed to collect them all, then?"

"No," Victoria said. "We've got the Wand and Cloak, but no Stone."

"I wouldn't have the first inkling as to where to even begin looking." Harry said. "Dumbledore and I went over Riddle's history last year, and we ended up uncovering a few Horcruxes, but we only had vague ideas of what the others could be, so I've been out here trying to research how to destroy the one we _do_ have. Basilisk venom is one way as it turns out, and supposedly Gryffindor's sword is imbued with the stuff after I slew the basilisk… you did that as well, right?"

"Yeah," Victoria replied. "We only ever discovered one Horcrux, and that was the diary. We had some ideas, such as Riddle using a bunch of artifacts of the Founders, but the list of known ones is very small. What's the deal with the locket?"

"It's one of Salazar Slytherin's heirlooms, so you're not wrong on that part. It was passed down through the family, but Tom's mother had to sell it off. He located it, and turned it into a Horcrux. The only other one I know if is Hufflepuff's goblet - Dumbledore showed me a memory of the previous owner in possession of it, with records of her dying not shortly after. We have no clue where it is though. As for the other two Founders, we came up short. There's very little left from either of them. The Sword and Sorting Hat are just about it, of Godric's."

"Yeah, we thought of those, but they came up clean, but Dumbledore never said anything about a goblet or locket."

"Could be he didn't know, or didn't know the significance."

"Probably," she said. "That's one of the reasons I'm here though, to learn more information on how to defeat Riddle. Things weren't going so hot, but at least I wasn't living in a tent in the middle of who-knows-where."

"So, you want to compare notes, and the skip off back to your own world?"

"I'm here until we've killed Riddle once and for all. If we can manage that, we'll know we can do it back in my world. But, we had no idea that things were going to be so… grim, here."

"It doesn't sound like things are _too_ different for you. You lost Sirius, and know of the Prophecy, right?"

"Yeah. But now that you've said it, I am concerned about Snape. Dumbledore is still Headmaster though, so I'm not too worried… but still, he's a greasy one."

"That's an understatement if I've ever heard one. Anyways, you have any ideas on where to begin?"

"You should destroy that Horcrux before you do anything else. I'm creeped out just having that thing near me."

"I don't feel safe doing it in the tent. I mean, Dumbledore lost an arm recovering one, and lost his life, recovering the second. Not exactly a good omen.'

"It's okay," Victoria said, putting a hand on Harry's arm. "Dumbledore made sure that I had the means to help in any way I could. Doing it here should be fine, and we're still behind the protections. I recognized at least Protego Totalum."

Victoria reached into her bottomless bag and pulled out a slim, white wand, and held it next to a familiar holly wand, identical to his own.

"That's Dumbledore's wand," Harry said, clearly surprised. "I've seen him use it a hundred times."

"It's also one of the Deathly Hallows," she said, smiling. "The difference between the two wands is night and day… the holly wand is quite powerful in its own right, but it feels like I can do things that just should not be possible with the Elder Wand. We'd do well to make sure you recover this world's one, before Riddle catches wind of it."

"I think Dumbledore was buried with it," Harry replied.

"Then, I recommend we visit his grave after we destroy this. So, if you would do the honors, I will make sure nothing bad happens."

"Do you think something will happen? Like, the memory of Tom Riddle trying to defend itself as with the diary? Do you think he'll notice part of his soul being destroyed?"

"I think he's twisted his soul so much, he likely won't be able to tell. Did you learn how many of them there were?"

"The memory of Slughorn's suggests that there's seven, so that's the assumption we've been working on, If we're wrong, well…"

"Shit. _Seven_? I mean, I understand the significance… but that's crazy to think of."

"Yeah, he's a monster," Harry said. He stood up from his sitting position and placed the locket onto the table. As he picked up the Sword, he could feel an inky presence at the back of his mind. Staring at the locket, he saw what looking to be a shadowy form emerging, eyes glowing red with malice, reaching towards him. It whispered into the deepest recesses of his mind, urging him to…

"Strike!" Victoria shouted. "Strike it now!"

The voice slithered through his mind, nibbling at his self-conscious, but with a roar, Harry lifted the sword up, and swung it at the locket at the table. He swung true, and the blade dug in deep, nearly cleaving the table in half, along with the locket.

There was a sudden piercing howl as the two sundered pieces of the locket bounced away and lay on the ground near his cot, where they began to melt into a puddle of inky goop, the destructive magic of the Horcrux unraveling in on itself.

"That was… scary," Harry said, breathing heavily and dropping the sword onto the ground.

Victoria rushed over to Harry and brought him into a tight hug, much to his embarrassment. "You really _are_ a Gryffindor, aren't you? Well done!"


	2. Pokemon trainer Harry Chapter 1

Pokemon trainer!Harry chapter 1. Written 12/29-15

* * *

"What do we have here?" an imperious voice called out, the sound echoing down the empty hall. "Has a brave trainer finally decided to visit this hallowed sanctum? It's been _months_ since I've had a true challenge."

Harry strode through the doors, listening intently to the voice as he looked around. The gym was sparse, and could barely be called a gym. Everything was stainless steel and marble… clinical… and empty.

The Gym Leader was sitting in a throne-like chair at the end of the large room, her posture perfect. Harry had heard all the rumors about this particular gym. All Gyms varied in difficulty, depending on a trainer's own experience and arsenal, along with the very nature of the gym leader's specialty. Brock, for instance, was often one of the first gyms people tackled, for his rock type pokemon were quite weak with low-powered movesets when they were young. But, he did have a tough end-line for those truly looking for a challenge, or for when he was participating in Gym Leader exhibition matches.

Sabrina, on the other hand, was considered extremely difficult at every echelon. Psychic type attacks were quite singular, in that even lower-tier psychic pokemon were capable of devastating damage, and her fully evolved lineup was nigh unstoppable. Most trainers were not even deemed worthy of facing them. If rumors were true, her end-line hadn't lost a single match this season, which was a good part of the reason that many trainers opted to skip her gym in favor of one of the minor, easier ones in some of the smaller fringe towns, or even skipping over to Johto.

Some people liked the easy route, but Harry Potter wasn't just "some" person. He'd make it to the Indigo Plateau, and he'd do it proper, even if it meant beating gym leaders like Sabrina and Giovanni. His pride wouldn't let him do anything less.

Harry walked up and faced Sabrina, who was currently cloaked in the shadows of the dimly lit hall . "I, Harry Potter, demand a battle with the Saffron City Gym Leader for her badge!"

A soft laughing sound filled the room, sounding like it came from everywhere at once. The voice spoke directly into his mind, much to his annoyance. "Oh, is that why you are here? For a badge?"

Sabrina took that moment to get up off of her throne. She didn't bother walking down the stairs, instead levitating herself down in an impressive display of her power. It was clear that she was quite a strong psychic.

"Come then, Harry Potter. To make this official, you must register your pokemon for a three on three battle." Harry stared at her face as she talked, he he noticed a few things. Firstly, as she continued to talk, her lips did not move at all, yet he heard her words all the same. Secondly, she was astonishingly beautiful.

Sabrina was of a similar age to Harry, perhaps a few years older. Her hair was as black as his own, and appeared to be silky smooth, and her eyes... her eyes were a brilliant, piercing blue that captivated him. She wore fashionable clothes in the form of a halter top and hip hugging pants, showing off her nice curves, alluringly large chest, and astonishingly long legs… She was powerful, and hot; a tough combination to beat.

The Gym Leader floated over towards a standard issue battle console, and Harry followed her there. Every gym used more or less the same setup, and he'd gone through this process four times already.

While no one short of the Elite Four knew the full extent of every Gym Leader's pokemon arsenal, Harry had taken some time to plan out what pokemon he wanted to use to fight against a trio of psychic types. So, with careful deliberation, Harry put in his trainer ID, which popped up showing that he had four badges. Next, Harry withdrew three pokeballs and placed them onto the scanner. The computer would calculate the average combat skill of Harry's team, and compute an appropriate team for the Gym Leader would use in turn.

First, he put Arcanine in. It had no type advantage or disadvantage against pure psychics, but was just an overall strong pokemon. He expected its exceptional speed would help him in the fight, as well as its durability.

"A fine specimen," Sabrina complimented, again using her telepathy, much to Harry's annoyance. He didn't like people messing around in his head, and her presence was too strong to stop without giving away his own abilities. His Arcanine scored very highly in the internal database of registered pokemon for that season, and surprisingly, the Gym Leader seemed honest in her statement.

The second pokemon Harry put into the scanner was his Scyther. While it was the newest member of his team, the type advantage it had would come in handy, and like the Arcanine, it was very fast. Sabrina merely made a humming noise as the stats of the pokemon lit up the screen. She clearly wasn't as impressed with Harry's choice this time, as she was quite used to people trying to brute-force their way past her her with single-minded type-advantaged teams.

Lastly, was Harry's trump card. He hadn't actually used it yet in any Gym Leader battles, but he felt like this was a special occasion. With a small self-indulgent smirk, Harry set the gleaming pokeball containing his Zapdos onto the pedestal.

While Scyther was quite a rare pokemon, Zapdos was on a level quite beyond that, being a near-mythical pokemon. It wasn't _the_ Zapdos of common bedtime stories, but it was still a legendary pokemon from that brood. It's mere status was such that rarely anyone saw one, and one actually being captured was pretty much unheard of.

"Well, that seems like an interesting story," Sabrina said telepathically, looking at the scanned stats of the pokemon. She raised a single eyebrow, her only showing of actual emotion so far.

"Perhaps after this match, I can tell you about it over a cup of tea," Harry suggested.

"Perhaps," Sabrina replied noncommittally. She pressed a few buttons on the computer, which then calculated what her team would be for the match. Her own pokemon were labeled in a code that Harry didn't understand, but Sabrina seemed satisfied with the choice. "Very well. We will begin shortly."

Harry took his position at one side of the designated arena while Sabrina used her telekinesis to retrieve her Pokemon from her vault. The power she casually displayed was quite surprising, and he hadn't seen anyone else come close to her in that regards. It was the closest thing he had seen to true magic yet, the magic the he remembered from his past.

"Go, Arcanine!" Harry called out, unleashing his first pokemon. It's form appeared in the arena in front of him, growling at the female Gym Leader as it did so.

Sabrina didn't say a word, instead, she used her psychic power to call forth her pokemon. Harry was slightly anxious as to what it would be. He knew the overall power level of his team was slightly skewed because of his Zapdos, while the Gym Leader's would be more balanced across the board.

Still, he was slightly surprised to see a Slowbro appear at the other end of the arena. Smart, and devious. Sabrina knew that trainers would do their best to get a type advantage, or on the other hand, a type resistance, on her psychics, so she'd used that against them.

Harry knew his Arcanine's potent fire attacks would be of little use against the Slowbro. He had never faced one before, but he knew enough about them. Psychic and water type, so he would have to rely on Arcanine's physical ability to take it out. He doubted the Slowbro's actual water skills would come into play, but there was always the possibility.

"Charge it and take it down!" Harry commanded. The Arcanine hunkered down and sprinted at the other pokemon, intending to slam it on the ground with its mass.

Sabrina wasted no time in commanding her Slowbro to counter attack. She didn't talk out loud, and was again using her telepathy to command it. That had the benefit of being instantaneous, and the Slowbro reacted to her command immediately. However, Harry had his own tricks in the form of legilimency. He couldn't get a direct read on Sabrina herself, she was far more powerful than him in the mental arts, but he could detect the command that the pokemon had received.

 _Water gun._ Sabrina was well known for just brute forcing opponents with her pokemon's superior psychic power, so the fact that she was actually leading off with a non-psychic attack was a bit surprising, even if it was an obvious choice. And, it immediately went against his preliminary thought that she wouldn't go for water type moves against his nimble pokemon. Was she reading _his_ thoughts?

"Use your agility!" Harry commanded, before the Slowbro could fully begin its attack. Slowbro weren't known for being quick pokemon, but they were quite powerful.

Again, Sabrina used her telepathy to command the Slowbro, but this time, there was little Harry could do about it. The Slowbro's water gun missed, but even as it did, it immediately followed up with a psychic hold, instantly halting the Arcanine in its place.

"Disrupt it! Use Flame Wheel!" Arcanine roared as he struggled against the psychic's power, and with one might howl, he created a massive wheel of flame that raced down the floor and towards the Slowbro.

Harry missed the command that Sabrina sent this time, but he saw the Slowbro reacting. It raised its hands, and as it did so, it began firing out bolts of water at the flame wheel. It was using its psychic power to aim the bolts, which made them very precise. The Flame wheel burst into a ball of steam, but the Slowbro's attention had diverted enough for the Arcanine to break free and charge at the Slowbro again.

"Do it Arcanine! Use Outrage!" It was the most powerful non-fire attack Harry's Arcanine knew, and he didn't want this battle to go on any longer than necessary.

The attack hit, much to both trainer's surprise, and the Slowbro was hurled backwards onto it's back. Arcanine did not let up with the attack as he smashed the other pokemon across the arena once more. However, while Arcanine was preparing to strike for a third time, Harry felt, rather than heard, another command sent to to the Slowbro.

Slowbro's eyes glowed briefly before they emitted a bright flash of purple energy, lighting up the whole room with raw, psychic energy. Arcanine crumpled instantly from the psychic attack, knocking out in one hit. Confusion was a very powerful attack, and was the type of move that Arcanine had very little chance of dodging, not from point blank range.

Harry waited a second to see if his Arcanine would get up, but it didn't, so Harry begrudgingly withdrew it. With a sigh, Harry pulled out his next pokemon. He didn't want to use his Zapdos next, but it had a type advantage over the Slowbro, so it made more sense then Scyther. Harry briefly wondered if that was Sabrina's plan, for him to called out his heavy-hitter on the mid-card.

Zapdos appeared in a flash of lightning, flying over the battleground and giving out a tremendous thunderous screech. Slowbro blinked twice and hunkered down away from the legendary creature, while Sabrina looked on in fascination. It was surprising to see real emotion from someone whom he had heard was completely stony.

"Zapdos, use thunderbolt!" Harry commanded.

The Zapdos screeched and flapped its brilliant yellow and black plumage. Harry could feel the electricity building up in the room, and in a flash, a bolt of lightning struck the Slowbro, smashing through the psychic shield it had erected in response to the attack and knocking it out instantly. Harry could faintly see a thin wisp of smoke wafting off of it.

Sabrina nonchalantly returned the Slowbro back to its pokeball, unsurprised at that outcome. Then, her second pokemon was released, and Harry was unsurprised to see an Alakazam. Harry wasn't sure if she owned multiple ones, but Alakazam was her trademark pokemon, and it was almost always the anchor on her team. The fact that she's sending it out now either meant that she needed her big guns to deal with the Zapdos, or that somehow, her third pokemon was even more powerful.

Harry severely doubted the last option. Her Alakazam was the reason many trainers couldn't get past her. Even her Kadabras were quite tough.

"Zapdos, shockwave!"

The legendary pokemon seemed to vibrate in midair as it locked onto the Alakazam on the ground, Then, with a screech, it sent out a vibrating electric pulse at the Alakazam. The psychic pokemon erected a powerful barrier, but the electric attack smashed right through it and knocked it onto the ground.

Alakazam quickly floated itself off of the ground and back onto it's feet, and with a quick flash of energy, it fully healed itself using Recover.

"Zapdos, again! Shockwave again!"

Again, the Alakazam tried to absorb as much of the damage as it could with its barrier, only to repeatedly get knocked down by the powerful attack. This happened six or seven times, with each time the Alakazam using its immense psychic reserves to revert itself back to its fully healed state.

Harry wasn't making much progress, so he'd have to amp it up a bit. Literally. "Go for it Zapdos, use Thunder!"

Zapdos cawed in confirmation, having heard the command. It flew up high against the ceiling and stretched its wings out wide, using its electrical ability to manipulate polarity to seemingly float in the air. Then, in a blinding flash of light, a massive thunderbolt spanned from it's body to where the Alakazam was standing.

Harry shut his eyes tightly as soon as Zapdos prepared the attack. But, when he opened them again and blinked away the spots, the Alakazam was still standing, although on the opposite side of the arena.

"Again!" Harry commanded. Once more, it discharged the bolt of lightning at the Alakazam, only for the psychic creature to appear and disappear away from it. Then, he saw the Alakazam lift up its two metal spoons, and a purple aura appeared around the the Alakazam.

No even a second later, the aura flash and it looked like Zapdos had been physically struck, and it faltered in the air for a second, It had been a powerful psychic hit, but it would take more than that to take out a legendary bird.

"Go for it Zapdos, use your Lightning Fury!"

Zapdos screeched again, still recovering from the massive psychic strike. It began to beat its wings furiously, and a low buzzing sound slowly started to fill the room. Then, all at ones, small bolts of lightning began to rain down from it's wings, arcing everywhere in the room and leaving no cranny untouched.

Harry, for his part, shielded himself with a quick, subtle spell while it looked like Sabrine merely used her immense psychic power to stops the jolts in mid air in front of her. The Alakazam, however, fared a lot worse with nowhere to teleport with the whole room being lit up, it relied on its own barrier spell to protect itself, but once it fell, it couldn't concentrate enough to form a second one.

"Zapdos, finish it off! Use charged strike!"

Zapdos beat its wings and suddenly divebombed the Alakazam, electricity sparking off its wings as it did so. It slammed right into the Alakazam, emitting a massive burst of electricity and knocking the psychic pokemon across the room and out cold. Victorious, Zapdos began to preen itself, screeching as it did so.

Reluctantly, Sabrina recalled her Alakazam. It had been months since the last time it had been defeated, and it was the first loss it had this season. It was her signature pokemon after all, but it wasn't her most powerful.

This wasn't the first time she had to face down an extremely powerful pokemon in a gym battle. There was always the occasional report of some trainer showing up at a gym with a Dragonite or Snorlax, and on more than one occasion, she's had to face down a trainer who used a team of Gengars, thinking she'd roll over easy to such tactics.

One of Sabrina's greatest desires was to capture a legendary psychic pokemon. Unfortunately, there were none known to the Kanto region, but there were several

known to the other regions. And, to see a legendary used against her… it fueled her desire once more.

Sabrina rarely smiled, but as she released her most powerful pokemon, the one she had raised in hopes of one day completing her dream, a smile almost crossed her face.

It was a massive pokemon, nearly as tall as its trainer, and very wide. It was the color of steel, and sat one four squat legs, supporting its middle section which had armor in the shape of an 'X', and two large, intelligent eyes.

Harry, having never seen such a pokemon, quickly flipped open his pokedex and scanned it. " _Metagross. A dual psychic and steel type pokemon native to the Hoenn region. Further information is unavailable at this time."_

Frustrated by the lack of helpful information, Harry snapped the cover of his pokedex shut and slid it back into his pocket. He had a very bad feeling about the Metagross though, as it looked extremely durable. "Zapdos, use thunder!"

Zapdos, not one to be intimidated by the bulky land pokemon, screeched furiously before unleashing a massive burst of electricity down towards the Metagross.

Whereas the Thunder would have decimated the Alakazam, had it hit it, the Metagross's immense psychic barrier actually withstood the blast, and it didn't even look like it had trouble doing it. It was clear that it had extremely powerful psychic moves, presumably to make up for its lack of mobility.

Harry was at a loss for what to do. Thunder was it's most powerful attack, and it had been negated easily. Zapdos was a legendary pokemon for crying out loud! Perhaps he'd have to rely on one of Zapdos's non-electrical attacks, of which a scant few were actually useful. Wearing the Metagross down didn't really seem like a viable option.

"Drill peck!" Harry commanded. Harry had little hope for it actually doing any damage, and he was proven right when the Metagross didn't even bother blocking, just taking the attack right on the chin and without flinching. Zapdos flew away angrily, and the Metagross was completely unscratched.

As Zapdos was flying away and in the process of turning around, an aura appeared around Metagross, but like the one that had appeared around the Alakazam when it readied an attack.

"Agility!" Harry quickly shouted, but he was too late. Zapdos was rocked as a wave of psychic energy nearly sent it plummeting to the ground. Zapdos was strong and wasn't knocked out yet, but Harry wasn't sure how much more it could take, so he decided to withdraw it before it got knocked unconscious.

Sighing, Harry reached for his third pokeball. Inside it, Scyther waited. Scyther was a very powerful, very quick, pokemon. He had chosen it because he thought it would have been able to take out Sabrina's Alakazam. It was strong, but if Zapdos could not even scratch the Metagross, what chance would Scyther have?

None, he decided. He wouldn't put the pokemon through a lopsided, unfair battle. That seemed like untoward cruelness, and if there was one thing Harry wasn't, cruel was it.

"I forfeit," Harry said, sighing as he did so. Immediately, the ambient battle lights switched off, and the normal lighting inside the room turned back on. Needless to say, it was still quite gloomy.

"Well fought," Sabrina said, using her mouth to speak for the first time that day. Her voice was soft spoken, yet nice, which surprised Harry.

"Thank you," Harry said awkwardly. "I guess I'll be coming back once I've trained my team some more…"

"There's a cafe over on Ocean street." Sabrina said.

"What?"

"I want to hear your story." Sabrina replied simply. "You're Zapdos is quite exceptional, if a bit young."

"Oh, uh, okay. Sure." Harry shrugged. He wouldn't say no to a casual tea-date with a hot gym leader, even if that gym leader just kicked his ass. Harry wasn't one to lose often, and he just got rolled. He didn't want to get on her bad side, either, and at worst, perhaps telling her his story would get him a powerful ally. It was worth the risk, at any rate.


	3. Harry fucked up, chapter 1

Harry fucked up, Chapter 1. Written 2/22/16

* * *

"Sirius, NO!" Harry yelled, watching in slow motion as an inky black curse from Bellatrix's wand slammed into his godfather. A look of surprise briefly crossed Sirius's face as his body was flung backwards and through the mysterious arch. His body did not come out the other side.

Harry rushed forwards up onto the plinth that the arch stood on, looking around frantically. One second, Sirius had been there, and the next, he was gone. Remus Lupin ran up to Harry and grabbed hold of him, preventing him from doing anything stupid even as his Godfather's killer laughed at him.

"I KILLED SIRIUS BLACK!" She announced in a sing-song voice, running up the stairs and heading for the exit. Even with Sirius's death, the flow of battle was changing. "I KILLED SIRIUS BLACCCKKKKKKK!"

Remus held him tight, preventing him from chasing after the extremely dangerous dark witch, even as tears rolled down his face. Harry had lost his godfather, a man he had only had in his life for a bit over a year, but Sirius had been Remus's last real friend. They had been friends since the Hogwarts Express in their first year, and now he was gone.

Harry was beyond incensed, and he wanted nothing more than to make Bellatrix pay. Just as Bellatrix fled through the door, Harry broke free of Remus's grasp and raced after her, his wand held tightly in his grasp.

"Harry, don't!" Hermione shouted at him as Remus made a feeble attempt to grab at his robes. Harry didn't even look backwards as he raced after Bellatrix. He didn't think anyone followed him as the battle quickly heated up once more.

Harry locked the door behind himself with a quick charm has he ran after Bellatrix. "I'm going to KILL you!" Harry shouted. He could still hear Bellatrix singing as the sound of her feet stamped off into the distance. Harry had always considered himself a quick runner, but Bellatrix was pretty much fresh out of a fifteen year stint in Azkaban. Yet, he couldn't catch her.

Running through the halls with bloodlust in his veins, Harry barely paid any attention to his surrounding. The stone floor beneath his feet was unyielding as he trudged deeper into the bowels of the Department of Mystery. Gray walls lined both sides of the hallways, the dull dreariness only broken up intermittently by magically lit torches held aloft in antique bronze sconces.

Slowly, Bellatrix's voice disappeared altogether and Harry forced himself to slow down a bit. Breathing heavily, he could hear his heart pounding in his ears as the adrenaline pooled up inside his body. He wanted to kill Bellatrix so badly, yet he had run through the Department of Mystery not knowing where he was, and it was clear he was now lost, with no sign of Bellatrix.

Wand held out in front and wavering, Harry tread carefully down the corridor, looking for any sign of familiarity. He also didn't want to head into an ambush. Bellatrix could be waiting around a corner, ready to strike out at him on a moment's notice.

Plodding on carefully, Harry recognized nothing around him. From the looks of things, it barely looked like anyone came this way all that often, as there was a fine layer of dust on the ground, and cobwebs lined the ceiling. He could make out several footprints in the dust, so he at least knew he was going in the right direction.

Trekking onwards, Harry was scanning every corner of the darkness, looking for any possible threat. He was keenly aware that there were multiple steps of footsteps, which meant that perhaps more than Bellatrix had been this way. If it was another Death Eater… well, he'd kill them all if he had to. It's not as if they didn't have it coming anyways.

As he walking on, Harry would have sworn he heard something dogging him. It sounded like a faint pair of footsteps, but every time Harry stopped to listen, so did the footsteps. And shining his wand light down the hallway revealed nothing. The hallways itself was straight, with the only deviations being the occasional locked door. There wasn't anywhere to hide

Suddenly, there was a loud, ear-piercing scream and Harry immediately bolted forward, wand at the ready. The scream at been awfully feminine, and it sounded like whoever it was had been in excruciating pain. Harry hoped it wasn't Luna, Ginny, or Hermione, and if it happened to be Bellatrix, well, he had a few spells in mind.

The scream died off as quickly as it had started, and as Harry rounded the corner, he just barely saw a door closing further on. Rushing forward, he saw a large blood stain on the floor, pooling under the doorway that had just closed. Carefully, Harry approached, a blasting charm ready on his lips.

The blood was fresh, and it looked like whoever it had come from had been dragged through it, with the blood trail disappearing underneath the door. Carefully, he ran his wand over the door knob, incanting a spell to check for traps. There were none, so he reached up and grabbed the handle to open it, but it was firmly locked. There did not appear to be a keyhole, and all his attempts to unlock it magically failed, and he knew some good ones.

"Think, Potter," Harry said to himself. "Someone was just _murdered_ here… why would I want to go in there? Hopefully it was Bellatrix…"

Nodding to himself at the decision he made, Harry realized he needed to get out of there, and quick. The Order and his friends could still be facing the Death Eaters, and he needed to help them. If something happened to one of his friends because he had run off… he'd never forgive himself.

The Department of Mysteries seemed to be an endless maze of corridors, with many of them abruptly ending. Harry was forced to go through the occasional mystery room to find a new corridor, and every single room he entered held strange devices and experiments that Harry didn't dare touch. Harry was just trying to get back to the main circular room they had started in, but there didn't seem to be any directions in this place at all.

Carefully, Harry pushed onwards, ever-vigilant. Eventually he came down to a corridor that was pitch black. All the previous ones, no matter how disused they were, had proximity lights that would flare up upon approached. Harry could see the the sconces on the walls by the light of his wand, yet they did not seem to be active.

Harry, suddenly getting cold feet, reached behind him for the door he had just come through, only to find it closed shut. He worked at the door knob, only to find it unyielding. Sputtering in frustration, Harry could only continue forward into the darkness.

Creeping forward, Harry held his wand ahead of him, ready to hex anything at the first sign of movement. Like the last corridor, there just wasn't anywhere to hide, but Harry still felt extremely uneasy. Something about this hallway was off. Perhaps it was the door that locked itself behind him, or perhaps it was the darkness, or maybe it was the massive bloodstain he had come across and the fact that he had seen his Godfathered killed less than an hour ago.

Gulping, Harry edged forward, coming to an intersection. Carefully he peeked around the corner, looking to the right and finding darkness. And again, when he looked forward, the same thing. But, when he looked to the left, he saw a light in the distance, and what appeared to be someone walking carefully, much like himself.

Wand still in his hand, Harry carefully approached the figure, who appeared to be trying to get into a door. When he was fifty feet away, the figure noticed him. His wandlight in the dark didn't exactly help with stealth, but it couldn't be helped.

To his surprise, it was Bellatrix Lestrange.. "Potter!" she shouted. "You fool! What are you doing here - this is _her_ domain!"

Harry didn't dignify her with response, instead he raised his wand to strike her down. Her eyes widened, but as they did so, her head turned to her right and she gave a quick gasp of surprise before there was a fountain of blood.

Holding a hand up to her neck, Bellatrix tried to stem the tide of blood as her eyes darted around frantically, trying to find her attacker. She tried to scream, but all that came up with a gurgle.

Suddenly, a figure appeared briefly in front of her, and in flash, they were gone in a spray of gore.

Harry ran. Harry ran fast. He had never ran so fast in his life as he did in that moment. Some… _thing_ had just taken Bellatrix out in seconds, and she was second only to Voldemort in skill and infamy. Sure, fifteen years in Azkaban hadn't helped, but she had still outdueled all of the Order members in the brief fight that had happened not that long ago.

Plowing through the intersection, Harry didn't even look where he was going. He did not know what had just ambushed Bellatrix, and he was afraid to find out. In the darkness of the Department of Mystery, it could be anything. He had passed countless locked rooms, each one of which could have held an arcane horror or eldritch abomination.

Harry continued to run until his legs could carry him no farther. Even with just the light from the tip of his wand to guide him, he went full out, ignoring every single side door until there was no other option. It would not do for him to come across something _worse_.

Attempting to get back to the main section of the Department, Harry was running on fumes. He had a terrible cramp and was struggling to catch his breath, yet he daren't stop. Eventually, after some time, his pace slowed to a slow walk as he sucked down air. He was still in a dusty corridor, but he at least come to an area where the proximity lights were working. That much was a relief - whatever the thing was, it wouldn't attack him in the light, would it?

After a brief respite, Harry continued to walk down the path, his shoes echoing as he did so. Unlike the previous hallways, this one had no doors. The only options were to go forward, or go backwards, and he sure as hell wasn't going backwards.

It was with great determination that Harry continued onward, looking for any sign of an exit in the thrice-damned labyrinth. He had thought he was getting somewhere when he had found the lighted passage, but it just seemed to go on and on forever. Surely the battle had to be over? There's only so long people can duel before someone comes out a winner. Whoever was left standing would surely be looking for him, as he was the Boy-Who-Lived, be it the Order, the Ministry, or the Death Eaters.

Something tickled at the back of his mind as he continued onwards. Bellatrix had said that this was "her domain." Harry hadn't any clue what that meant, but it sounded ominous. A shiver went up his spine, and he thought his mind was playing tricks on him again. As he walked, he thought he heard a set of footsteps behind him, carefully going at the same pace as him.

The same thing had happened earlier, but nothing came of it. He suddenly stopped short, hoping to catch his follower off guard, but he didn't. He started walking again, and so did the footsteps behind him. They were soft enough that after a minute or two of playing like that, he thought perhaps that it was just his echo. After all, there was nowhere to hide. The hallway was lit, and it were perfectly straight in both directions.

Quickly, Harry turned around and tossed a ball of light down the hallway, trying to see if something truly was following him. His following _homenum revelio_ spell revealed nothing either. Sighing in relief, Harry turned around, only be be confronted by a woman standing right in front of him.

She was hooded, but he could make out her pale face in the dim light. She had black hair, pooling out of the bottom of her hood, and a womanly figure that was noticeably even though the bulk of her robe, which looked to be of the official Department of Mystery sort.

The robes were also covered in blood, something Harry took special note of, even as he then noticed that the woman was holding the severed head of Bellatrix Lestrange in her right hand.

Surprised, Harry looked back up into the woman's face and went to bring his wand to bear. The woman smiled, revealing her bloody mouth, and a pair of long, sharp, and bloody fangs. She licked her lips and smiled.

Harry screamed.


	4. Into the Roil, Chapter 1

Into the Roil, Chapter 1. Written 4/25/15

* * *

The night was cold, and oddly still. The deaths of fifty of my classmates at the hands of the Death Eaters and their allies had a way of doing that. Even so, the night was unnaturally calm.

The first step towards the Forbidden Forest, and the final trek towards journey's end - that was the hardest. I knew what was coming. It really could not end any other way. Prophecy or not, I knew it would always come down to this. In the end, It would always have to be just me and him, just me and Voldemort, and no one else.

No more people would die for me. I had seen the faces of the dead as I left the sanctuary of Hogwarts. I recognized Colin Creevey, Fred Weasley, Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks. The scariest part was that I didn't recognize many of the others. There were people fighting and dying for me, people that I didn't even know. That was sombering.

Hugging my invisibility cloak tighter to my body, I made my way down to the dark forest. I was careful to not make any noise, and I held the hem of my robes up to my mouth to prevent my breath from misting and giving me away.

I was determined, yet scared. I had never backed down from any challenge. I had always done the right thing. I was loyal to a fault. I was brave. A true gryffindor. These are the phrases that some people would remember me by.

A martyr.

I shook my head, clearing those thoughts. Truthfully, I was bloody terrified. I knew this had to be done. Knew this for a long time. The longest time. Perhaps ever since the end of the fourth year, when I saw Cedric Diggory brutally murdered in front of me, and Voldemort resurrected. I knew, one day, that it would come to this. In the back of my mind, I always knew. Maybe even before that.

I continued walking down the grass, doing my best to stay away from Ginny, who was comforting a girl in her dying moments. I had to resist the urge to reach and and touch her one last time...

It was ironic, in a way. The answer had been with me since the beginning. When asked about how I knew Parseltongue, Dumbledore had speculated that I had gained some of Voldemort's abilities when his killing curse had backfired on me as an infant. He hadn't explicitly said that I had actually became host to a fragment of Voldemort's soul, his unwilling Horcrux, and yet it all made sense in retrospect.

I briefly wondered if everything would have been different if Voldemort used a severing curse instead. Perhaps I would have died cleanly and without recourse.

Now, I was a Horcrux. The missing link. I was at the end of the line in our Horcrux hunt. For Voldemort to be mortal once more, all of his Horcruxes had to be destroyed. In the case of a Horcrux contained in a living creature, destruction of the container meant death.

I wasn't even the last one. Nagini was still alive, but I had faith that the others would deal with that snake soon enough. And then that merely left Voldemort himself. The greatest wizard of his generation. Even so, no one was infallible. He could be defeated, that much I was certain of. Who would be the witch or wizard to strike the final blow? That, I was uncertain of. I envisioned fifty of us lining up in the line and all casting at once… he was bound to get hit by a stray spell eventually. If I had to place a bet, I would say Shacklebolt of McGonagall, but I wouldn't live to see it happen.

The forest was dark. Darker than I remembered, and I didn't dare create any light. In the distance, I could see a fire, no doubt where the Death Eaters were regrouping, waiting for Voldemort's deadline to come and go so they could finish sacking the school.

I stopped walking. I could feel dementors, a whole host of them, some distance away. The cold gripped every inch of my body, and it took all of my will to not turn around that very second. It reminded me of the Quidditch game against Hufflepuff… the only time Cedric Diggory had ever beat me. It was ironic, in a way. Cedric's death was the beginning, and mine would be the end.

I reached into my pockets and pulled out the pouch that contained the snitch - the one that I caught in my very first game, and the same one that Dumbledore had willed to me upon his death. Knowing the headmaster as I did, it was clear that everything he did was for a purpose, even if it was one I didn't understand.

My fingers fumbled on the drawstring for a second. The nerves in my fingers just did not want to cooperate. My body didn't want to continue on, but I had to.

 _I open at the close_.

This was it. This was the answer. I was breathing hard and heavily, and I could see my breath in the air from the dementors' icy aura. I was trying to prolong the moment, but everything seemed to be speeding up.

I pressed the golden snitch to my lips and whispered, _"I am about to die."_

The shell broke open instantly. I knew what was inside before I saw it. I lowered my shaking hand inside and pulled it out. With Draco's borrowed wand, I muttered " _Lumos,"_ and kept the light close to my body.

The stone was black, with a jagged crack running down the center. The Resurrection Stone. The line representing the Elder Wand was split, but the triangle representing the Cloak - my cloak - was still visible, as well as the circle for the Stone.

I understood what I had to do without even having to think about it. I was not bringing them back, for in a few moments, they would be fetching me.

I closed my eyes and turned the stone over in my hands three times.

I knew it had happened. I heard slight movements around me, and could feel the slight shifting of the earth that suggested frail bodies moving around on the ground. With trepidation, I opened my eyes.

They weren't truly ghosts, nor were they flesh. They had an ethereal quality about them, but they were neither real nor imagined. They were something in between, something that could only be accomplished with a great feat of magic. Memory made solid, similar to what I had seen in Riddle's diary, but something so much more.

My dad James was the same height as me. He was wearing the clothes in which he had died in, and his hair was messed up, much like my own.

Sirius was tall and handsome, and younger. He looked far healthier and happier than I had ever seen.

Remus was younger too, and not nearly as shabby as I had last seen him. His hair was thicker and darker, and he seemed to be happy to be back in a familiar place. No doubt he had spent a fair amount of time in the forest.

Lily seemed the happiest of them all, with a wide smile. She pushed her hair back as she drew closer to me, examining my face as though she would never see it again. I got a good look at her, and I was thankful to note that she looked nothing like Ginny. That would have been awkward.

"You've been so brave," she said. I couldn't respond. I was trying to burn the image of my mother into my brain forever, so that I would never forget until my dying breath.

"You're nearly there," my dad said. "Very close… we're so very proud of you."

"Does it hurt?" I asked after a minute.

"Dying? Not at all," Sirius replied. "Quicker and easier than falling asleep."

"Not very easy then," I retorted with a smile.

"He will want it to be quick," Remus said. "He wants this to be over."

"I didn't want you to die," I said suddenly. "Any of you. I'm sorry… right after you had your son, I'm so sorry…"

"I'm sorry too," Remus replied. "Sorry I will never know him. But, he will know why I died and I hope he will understand. We are trying to make a world in which he can live happily."

"I'm afraid of dying alone," I admitted. "You'll be there for me?"

"Everyone dies alone," Sirius said. "But, you don't have to be alone when it happens. We'll be with you until the very end."

"They won't be able to see you? I asked.

"We are a part of you," my dad replied. "Invisible to anyone else."

I looked at my mum. "Stay close to me."

I set off. The Dementors' chill slid right off me, as if my ethereal companions were my own personal Patronus guardians. We marched on, treading through old trees and dense, knotted shrubbery.

Clutching the cloak even tighter to me, I walked towards the fire in the distance. I hadn't realized how large it was, having been able to see it from a distance, but I must have been a mile into the forest by now.

I felt oddly disconnected with the world. My body felt like it was acting on its own accord, working with my instructions, as if I was a passenger in my own body. My dead companions were more real to me at the moment than the living back at the castle. Without them, I would not have made it this far. My body would have surely given out.

I could see figures in front of the fire, their bodies cast long shadows that stretched into the night. I couldn't make them out yet, but any one of them could have been responsible for the murder of Remus, or of Colin.

There was suddenly a thud and a whisper next to me. I had nearly walked right into Dolohov, who was standing as a sentry.

"Someone there?" he called out. "Invisible?"

Another figure emerged from a nearby tree. Yaxley. "I definitely heard something," he said. "Animal?"

"Could be," Dolohov admitted. "Merlin knows what kind of beasts that oaf Hagrid keeps back here."

Yaxley pulled a watch out of his pocket and held it up to his face, peering at the hands in the moonlight. "Time's nearly up. We should go back, find out what the plan is next."

They both turned around and head back towards camp. The thought came across my mind quickly. It would be so easy, to kill them both right now where they stand. I was fairly confident I could cast the Killing Curse right now. All things considered, I was intimately familiar with the spell.

No, I was not here to take out as many Death Eaters as I could. My goal was much more singular.

I followed after them, knowing that they were going to exactly where I was going. It didn't take long to arrive at the clearing where they had made camp. I recognized it as the place where the monstrous acromantula Aragog used to live. All that remained were the remnants of a few burnt up webs and a lingering smell of decay.

The assembled group of Death Eaters were a grim lot. This was the culmination of everything they had worked for in the last several years, but still, even for them, it was not easy. There weren't that many of them, twenty perhaps, but they were all cold-blooded killers, every last one of them.

I spotted Fenrir, skulking in the shadows, honing the edges of his long nails. Two large burly Death Eaters sat off behind him, casting large shadows down on them all. Rowle was holding a rag to his lip, which didn't look like it would stop bleeding any time soon.

Lucius Malfoy and his wife were there as well, both looking terrified and apprehensive. Bellatrix sat next to her sister, and she was the only one, beside her master Voldemort, who didn't look worse for wear. Harry noticed that it seemed like the Death Eaters had taken almost as bad of a beating as the defenders had, and only a handful of them still sported masks that were intact.

Voldemort stood in the center. No doubt he found things such as sitting to be beneath him. He rarely showed emotion, but even he had a pensive look on his face. All eyes were fixed upon him.

His head was bowed, and he gripped the Elder Wand in front of him. He looked deep in thought. Behind him, Nagini stirred within her floating cage made out of gilded light, like a halo.

Voldemort looked up when Dolohov and Yaxley rejoined the circle. "No sign of him, milord."

The Dark Lord's expression did not change. Slowly, he shifted the Elder Wand between his long, spindly fingers. I could see the Death Eaters tense, as they noted their master's change in posture.

"My lord - " Bellatrix began to say.

Voldemort cut her off instantly with a slight gesture from his hand. "I thought he would come," he said. "I expected him to come."

No one spoke. They all seemed to be nearly as scared as I was. I could feel my heart pounding, threatening to burst through my chest. My hands sweated profusely as I pulled off my invisibility cloak and stuffed it beneath my robes.

"It seems…" Voldemort said slowly. "That I may have been mistaken."

"You weren't," I said, stepping out into the clearing. I tried to say it as loudly and strongly as I could, and I hoped to not project the fear I felt into my voice. I stepped forward once more, leaving the ghostly images of my parents behind. Nothing mattered but me, and Voldemort.

The illusion was gone as if it never existed. The giants that were just outside the clearing roared to their feet, and the Death Eaters jumped up instantly. There were gasps of shock, surprise, and even laughter.

Voldemort froze where he stood, but his eyes found mine. He stared at me, even as I moved closer. Nothing but the fire separated us.

I could feel the weight of my wand against my chest, but I made no move to draw it. I could see that Nagini was too well protected, and that I would get killed before I even had a chance to draw my wand.

Voldemort tilted his head to the side, contemplating what my appearance meant. A small smile appeared on his lipless mouth.

"Harry Potter," he said very softly. "The Boy Who Lived."

No one moved. The Death Eaters were waiting. Voldemort raised his wand.

I could feel my heart pounding. It felt like it was beating a thousand times a minute. thwump thwump thwump thwump, threatening to burst through my chest. I was finding it hard to breathe, as if I was suffocating, but no such thing was happening.

My head was throbbing, and there was a whistling sound that was getting louder and louder, threatening to engulf the entire clearing. It kept going and going, and I was waiting for the crescendo to happen. It felt like I was moments away from fainting, but I knew I was moments away from dying. I knew it, as surely as I knew myself, I knew I was going to die.

Spots appeared in my vision, and the forest began to blur. Voldemort raised his wand, and then there was a flash. A familiar green light. Death.

Death was awfully quiet. There was no sound. The whistling sound was gone, the forest was steady, the Death Eaters watched on in anticipation. But the atmosphere was still oppressive. It felt like my blood was beginning to boil, and I could feel my migraine building, and my magic was groaning and protesting. Sparks flew in my periphery, indiscernible, but definitely real.

The speed of death was relative, but it felt like an eternity stretched before me as Voldemort spoke those two magic words, from the time the Killing Curse took travel the distance from his wand to me.

My mind worked in overdrive, protesting every fraction of every second of this course of action. I didn't see my life flashing before my eyes, instead I saw something else.

My life has always been unfair, almost from the onset. From the time my parents were killed, till the day I arrived at Hogwarts, my life had been shit, but it had been all I'd known. I had learned that I was hailed as the Boy Who Lived, due to some ancient magic my mother had invoked when she sacrificed herself to save me.

I had never thought of myself as special. The title of Boy Who Lived meant nothing to me, but it came with expectations, certain preconceived notions about what people who never met me thought I should be like.

I didn't stop Quirrell from stealing the Sorcerer's Stone because I was the Boy Who Lived.

I didn't save Ginny and slay a Basilisk because I was the Boy Who Lived.

I didn't save my godfather from the Dementor's Kiss because I was the Boy Who Lived.

I did all that because I was Harry Potter. And despite all that, I always felt like I was destined for something more, something bigger and grander than stopping some madman, something beyond being the fairy tale hero. I had always hoped that there was something else I was meant to do.

And there was.

I felt it within me. It was the sound I heard before. I didn't realize it before, but it was _me._ It was the sound of raw, unadulterated power coursing through my veins. I felt it, like a magnitude ten earthquake, I felt it. It bristled through my fingertips, up my arms, and to my very core.

I did not want to die like this, and apparently my body agreed. The amount of time that had passed from Voldemort's spell leaving his wand until this moment had been infinitesimally small, but the speed of my thoughts were far quicker. There was only one thing I could do, so I did it.

I let the power out.

It exploded out of me, rolling in spectral waves of pure magic, washing away the darkness, purging the clearing of evil. I couldn't control it - didn't even try do.

The sound was loud this time, very loud. There was screaming and yelling, and I realized a belatedly that I was the one screaming as the magic poured out of me, threatening to destroy my entire being.

I continued to roar, pushing the magic further and faster, until the very ground itself was coalescing with the essence of destruction. I could see Death Eaters disintegrating from where my wave of power tore through them. Giants were swept over onto their backs, and quickly eviscerated. The trees themselves were wiped from existence.

Even stranger still, I could feel something happening to my body. Effervescent wisps trailed from my arms and legs, raw magic as it filtered out of my body, but a new sensation was stirring inside of me. Was I burning out, literally and figuratively?

I blinked, and suddenly my mind was elsewhere. My solid body was gone, instead, I was a cloud of energy, branching out of the mortal world, stirring in the between realm.

Was I dead? Was this what it felt like for Voldemort when he got torn out of his body?

No. Somehow, I knew this was different. That I was different. I could see the Earth below me, but it was unlike any picture that I had ever seen. It, like myself appeared to me as a cloud of efflorescent color, blues and red, and greens, and more - colors that no human eye could accurately describe, yet I understood them and saw clearly.

I knew, somehow, instinctively, that this was Earth. It felt familiar. I could feel the familiarity of the magic, unlike the other globes of pulsating magic that I saw in the vast void that stretched around me. At first, I thought I was in space, perhaps in orbit looking at the Moon, but I quickly discounted that. I could see other entities like the Earth, other objects that had their own distinctive look and smell and feel.

No, this wasn't space. This wasn't something in the physical world. This was something in the realm of magic, something that normal people, even witches and wizards, had never comprehended.

I could feel the rich magic of the worlds. They were far, but I had lost sense of time in my current form. I knew I had enough power that I could make it to one of those other places, but I could also feel the taxation on my power, even as is. I could feel that my magic was fighting the void around me, fighting to stay coherent and to not get ripped apart to nothingness.

I didn't know what I was. But whatever I was, I was something _else_. I _was_ more than the Boy Who Lived.

I had transcended.

* * *

It happened quickly. I hadn't had much control over what was going on, but once I had locked onto one of the other worlds, I felt my form of raw energy travelling the distance, and a few seconds or hours laters - I couldn't tell - I was somewhere completely different, back inside my own body.

Before I could regain my senses, I was vomiting all over the ground. Blood mixed with my puke, staining the lush green grass red and brown. I heaved for several minutes as my body convulsed.

Apparently, I had survived the killing curse. Again.

Groaning, I turned to look up at the sky, and suddenly felt the world invert around me. I was on the ground, and looking up into the sky… I saw more ground.

I blinked twice, suppressing the urge to vomit again. Then, I looked again, steadying myself.

There, in the sky, was a vast expanse of floating land - what looked like part of a forest, and what could have once been a stronghold of some sort, and it was just floating in the air.

Around it, I could see these out triangular-like stone blocks hovering in the sky of their own accord, and the space around them rippled with unknown magic.

As I looked around me, it seemed like the very ground beneath my feet rippled and roiled, begging to be torn free. In one direction, I saw a vast forest, stretching for as far as my eye could see. In another, I saw an endless sea, the deepest blue I had ever seen. And beyond that, a vast mountain range, stretching up into the sky and brushing the stars themselves.

"We're the hell am I?" I wondered out loud, awed by what I was seeing. "What the hell am I?


	5. Out of the Eluvian and into the Fire, 1

Out of the Eluvian and into the Fire, Chapter 1. Written 1/11/16

* * *

What madness drove me into the Korcari Wilds, I could not say. The place was desolate, far from known civilization. It was cold, and swampy, and the only thing I could see for miles on end were trees.

And dead corpses.

The smell was hard to describe, though I'm sure the words 'rotten' and 'deathly' would come to mind. The corpses were of soldiers, and of Darkspawn, a vile sect of otherworldly monsters that lurked beneath the surface keen on infecting the world with their blight.

How I found my way into this world I could not say, but having learned of the fifth coming of the Darkspawn, I knew what I had to do.

Getting to Ostagar had proven to be difficult. I did not know the area, and somewhere along the way I had lost the highway, and ended up in the woods. I had intended to offer my aid to the Ferelden King. Cailan was his name…

Alas, I had missed the battle by mere hours. The Wilds had turned into a frenzied deathtrap nearly instantly as deserters attempted to flee after their army had been massacred. I had come across a few of them, as well as bands of Darkspawn in pursuit. They all said nearly the same thing - that the King was dead, and his army and the Grey Wardens with him.

One particularly frantic deserter mention how Loghain Mac Tir never entered the battle with his reinforcements, and would have sworn he saw them leaving the battle. I wasn't sure what to make of that information, and I let the man go on his attempt to leave the Wilds. I knew, however, that almost none of the fleeing soldiers would make it out of the Wilds alive.

Truth be told, there was a great chance I wouldn't either, but I sought answers. Answers a deserter wouldn't be able to give. And if I had to kill a few hundred Darkspawn to get those answers…then all the better.

I knew less about the world that I cared to admit. I don't even know the exact mechanics behind my arrival here, though I had my guesses. All signs pointed to me being stuck here unless I could find another intact portal, but leads were non existent so far. In the meantime, I had taken to doing the whole hero thing, though it wasn't always easy.

It especially wasn't easy after seeing countless fallen soldiers littering the forest floor. It didn't escape my notice that the bodies grew in number the closer I got to the ancient fortress of Ostagar.

A good deal of the bodies were Darkspawn. They were grotesque and misshapen, and I detested their very existence. They were _wrong._ Luckily, they died just like anything else, and it was apparent that the defenders of Ostagar had had some success before they had been overwhelmed, as many of their bodies littered the forest floor as well. There had to be thousands of dead, and I was still many miles away from where the epicenter of the battle.

I had to be careful. Darkspawn had spellcasters of their own, and while I considered myself to be very proficient in the ways of magic, I wouldn't pretend to understand everything, and a single mistake could mean my death. Keeping a low profile was key, especially since I didn't know the full extent of the Darkspawn powers - no one really did.

Staying hidden from the roving Darkspawn forces wasn't terribly difficult. They moved about in bands of ten to a hundred, and they were either distracted by their own kind, or whatever task their master had set upon them, which, from what I could tell, largely consisted of picking off stragglers.

I could hear a group of Darkspawn ahead, far sooner than I could see them. I would make a joke about being able to smell them first, but as I hadn't smelled anything but death in hours, it would have fallen flat. Especially since I was by myself. I hadn't fallen so low as to resort to talking with myself out loud to pass the time, but that's not to say I hadn't thought about it.

It was a small band of Darkspawn, around ten in total. They were closing in on an even smaller group of humans. The group hadn't seem to of spotted them like I had, so I quickened my pace to reassess the situation.

Slinking through the trees without getting heard was quite easy with magic. I could have made myself invisible as well, but I wanted them to see me. If they suddenly got attacked, and couldn't see the source, they would assume it was the small group, and charge them. I wanted them to know it was me.

As I got closer, I counted ten Darkspawn. That was a small amount compared to the rumored ten-thousand that were supposedly in the Wilds here. I was fairly confident I could take them out without much effort, especially considering they all looked to be warriors.

I didn't waist time with pageantry or banter. As far as I knew, they didn't understand my language, so I merely opened into them with a cadre of fireballs. It was a standard spell, normal fare when magic was concerned. A classic, really, and one that I was more than willing to make good use of.

The effects were instantaneous, and gratifying. Three darkspawn exploded in flames before they even knew what hit them. The remaining brought up their shields and took cover, noting my position as they did so.

I didn't give them time to regroup before I pressuring them again. Some mages relied completely on their magical might, but I liked to diversify. Conjuring swords was easy enough, a feat I'd used to great advantage, but conjuring took precious seconds that weren't always available. I felt safer sleeping at night with real steel by my side.

The sword I carried wasn't anything special. Steel, pilfered from some minor Orlesian lord's armory. The silver handle was fairly plain, but the edge of the blade was as sharp as any. Unsheathing it, I held it in the air, and with a quick whispered charm, it floated by itself.

With my right hand, I inscribed a rune in the air, and before my eyes, the sword replicated thrice. I waited for the Darkspawn to make a move, but once they did, I unleashed my weapons

Two of the swords darted at the group like arrows, while the others spun like a top, eviscerating everything in their path. The first two sword sunk deep into the shields, all the way to the hilt and goring the bearers. The other two soared over heat before coming at the from behind, lobbing off arms and legs.

It was a bloody mess, though I admit, a bit satisfying. My angle of attack had been so oblique that the Darkspawn had no idea how to counter it, and the group had died in under a minute.

With a wave of my hand, I called the blades back to me, and with a whisper, I dispelled the duplication rune. I took a quick second to clean the gore off the blade before sheathing it and turning my attention to the small group of humans who were now approaching me.

There were three of them, all human. One man, with blond hair and blue eyes, was wearing a breastplate with a sword and shield at ready. He was probably only a few years younger than myself. A second man, a little younger than the first with brown hair and brown eyes, held aloft a great axe, and wore chainmail. He looked strong enough to wield his weapon with some force.

The last person was a female, that much was obvious. Her outfit was quite revealing, with her top being little more than a purple sash that covered up her large breasts. Her midriff was bare as well, marking her as being a mage - a warrior wouldn't dress as such, plus the staff gave it away. She had dark hair that was partially tied off behind her head, but mostly seemed to be getting in her face. Additionally, she wore an extravagant golden necklace that belied her appearance of being a wildling. She was interesting, to say the least.

"Greetings, travelers," I greeted nonchalantly. "Don't get too close. Wouldn't want a bystander to get the blight, would we?"

"Hello to you," the one in chainmail replied, stopping about ten feet away. "That was an impressive display of magic. You don't bear the mark of Ferelden - are you Chasind?"

"Going by his attire," the man in plate said. "I'd wager he's from Tevinter. Awfully far."

"I am a wanderer. The name is Harry. I had meant to lend my skills at Ostagar, but I admit I don't know this land very well and I was a few hours late. I came across several men running from the battle, all claiming different things, but the one detail they all said was that the army had fallen and the King was dead. Are you coming from Ostagar as well?"

"Aeden and I were there - I'm Alistair by the way, and the witch is Morrigan," Alistair said by way of introduction. "What you said is true. We personally lit the beacon at the Tower of Ishal to signal Loghain's troops, but they retreated instead, allowing the King to die, as well as our mentor, Duncan. I swear, I'm going to kill him."

"There seems to be several thousand Darkspawn in your way though," I pointed out. "I did my best to take out his group which seemed intent on ambushing you. And if what you say of betrayal is true, then I fear the ramifications of this Blight."

"Thanks, but we were actually setting the trap for them. Us two are Grey Wardens, you see," Aeden said. "I'm a recruit, but Allistar has been one long enough that he can sense the Darkspawn. That would make it hard to get ambushed."

"Wardens?" I clarified. "One of the men I came across said that they had all fallen at Ostagar as well. That's great to hear that some survive. I guess you really didn't need saving after all."

"Have you come across many other survivors?" Alistair asked.

"Only a few, and with as many Darkspawn as I've come across so far, I'd wager that very few of them are still alive. I had planned on going to Ostagar still, but I'm having second thoughts. I came here to kill some Darkspawn, but the sheer number of them is surprising."

"I'd recommend against that course of action," Morrigan said, speaking for the first time. "The Darkspawn are currently feasting on the remains of King Cailan's army. Your magic is impressive, but against twenty-five thousand Darkspawn, or more, you wouldn't stand a chance. None of us would. Best you get away from here."

"That is quite a lot," Harry admitted. "Perhaps it _is_ best I make leave of this cursed forest for the time being. Do you know the way out?"

"Morrigan was leading us out of the forest," Aeden replied. "She knows this place better than anyone. You're welcome to come, if you wish. We've got old Warden treaties that we're going to use to build an army. Any help we get would be appreciated."

"I did travel all the way to fight the Blight. I would be remiss if I declined."

"Just what this party needs," Alistair muttered. "Another apostate."

I gave Alistair and amused smile. "Contrary to your beliefs, not everyone follows the will of the Chantry. I was never part of the Circle of Mages, nor do I intend to be. Only those of weak will would succumb to the seductive power of blood magic. I would ask you to not insult me again."

"Well said," Morrigan said with a smirk. "Having another intelligent person in this party would be refreshing."

"Alistair said you're a witch." I remarked. "I haven't come across many people who willing chose that title, instead of the normalized Mage, or Sorceress."

"I am what I am, though I do prefer the term Sorceress. My mother though, titles herself a Witch of the Wilds. You may have heard the tales."

"Can't say that I have, sorry," I replied. "I'm not really from around here. Are they interesting tales?"

"Of turning children into frogs and boiling them into stew," Alistar pointed out.

"Stew, really? I know of some potions that require body parts, but eating them seems a bit of a waste."

"Have you not heard of Diablerie?" Morrigan asked.

"You mean the old saying - you are what you eat? Drinking something's blood to gain their power... I know of the concept, but turning kids into frogs, then eating them, doesn't seem like the same thing."

"True, true," Morrigan absconded. "I've never done any such thing. Tis just tales, I think, to keep city folk from wandering too far into the forest. I cannot say that my mother has never done no such thing, but I have no knowledge of it. Knowing her as I do, however, I wouldn't be surprised if she started those rumors herself. She would find amusement in that."

"That's good to know," I replied awkwardly. I didn't know these people, though they seemed alright. I wasn't native to Ferelden, or Thedas for that matter, so a lot of their tales were lost on me. I tried to study up on what I could, but I had spent most of my time in Antiva and the Tevinter Imperium. "So how far is it to get out?"

"Once we get back to the Imperial Highway, about a day's walk after we leave the Wilds to get to Lothering. I don't leave often. I find civilization is often lacking in civility."

"What she means to say is that last time she went to Lothering, she got chased out by Templars," Alistair said.

"You would know," Morrigan shot back. "How many innocent mages have you chased off yourself?"

"As a matter of fact, none. But I am not a templar any longer, I am a Grey Warden. You can tell, since templars are trained to hunt down apostates, and here I am, merely trading banter with one."

"That may just be your sense of self-preservation," Morrigan dismissed.

"Or perhaps I don't attack potential allies," Alistair responded. "That, and I don't want to be turned into a toad."

Morrigan rolled her eyes and huffed. "You're not very imaginative. I can't tell if it's a templar thing, of you are really just that dull."

"Er, have you known each other long?" I asked.

"No, I wouldn't say that," Alistair replied sheepishly.

"Ostar fell two days ago now…" Aedan said. "So that's about how long we've known her. We left her mother's hut about six hours ago I'd say. Ideally I'd like to clear the forest before it's fully night."

"Alright. Well, don't let me keep you standing here," I said. "You lead on, and I'll follow."

Getting out of the Korcari Wilds took longer than I would have prefered. I didn't realize I had actually made it so far into the place. Ostagar was at the southernmost point of the ancient Imperial Highway, which had been build by Old Tevinter. Lothering was quite a distance north, so all we really had to do was come across the highway and then follow it.

That was easier said than done. The Wilds were cold and wet, and quite miserable. With my magic, I wasn't too bad off, but Alistair was burdened with his heavy armor and a pack with supplies. Aeden was only marginally better off, but they both seemed to be in a terrible mood. I couldn't fault them their guilt, since they had lost nearly everything, but I felt as unattached as Morrigan did.

She seemed at ease, though tense. She wasn't talkative, or even all that friendly, if I was honest, but she was at least making an effort. Alistair and Aeden would occasionally ask her a question, and she would answer, but that was about the extent of it. From what I could gather, she lived a very secluded life with her mother, who then told her to go with the Wardens and help save the world or something like that.

Morrigan held herself in a way I couldn't describe. I could tell that she relied on her magic differently than I did, though I hadn't seen her use any at all. It was the way she held herself, it was that of a predator, and that of someone who had every confidence in their ability. Part of it could also be that she was quite attractive, and wearing an outfit that wasn't really fit for the chilly weather.

Whether or not she noticed all of our stares, or if she even cared, I could not tell. She was not oblivious, which could only mean she would use it to her benefit sometime later.

While Morrigan was at ease leading us through the dense thicket, Alistair barely said a word as he struggled to avoid all of the hidden roots. I learned that his mentor and leader, Duncan, had fallen at Ostagar, and Alistair was taking it hard. Aedan was a very fresh recruit, having just joined the group that day. Apparently they were the only two Grey Wardens left in the entirety of Ferelden, and would be on their own for the coming weeks to fight the Blight. There were other Wardens in far away lands, or so I was told, but it could takes weeks to get word to them.

They had a tenuous plan, though it was admittedly a better plan than mine which just involved killing every Darkspawn there was until there were no more left. Realistically, that wasn't a feasible option. The only option was to raise an army, and to do that, they would have to utilize old treatise that had been made between the Wardens and the various factions of Ferelden. There would be a lot of politics involved, which I readily admitted I was rubbish. Aedan had a bit more insight into that world, since he was of a noble house.

There was more to Aedan's story, but I wasn't one to push. It was odd to me that an heir, even a second heir, would become a Grey Warden, but I guess becoming a member didn't exclude you from the nobility or inheriting. I wasn't sure on all the fine details of the Order, and I had never met a Warden before. Though, with Aedan being a recruit, and Alistair being not much more, there wasn't a lot of information to be gained, especially since he was in a sullen mood.

Reaching the edge of the forest about an hour after sundown, we decided to make camp. Aeden seemed to have more of a knack for leadership than Alistair did, and no one made any complaints to the fact.

"We will make camp a hundred feet in to give us some cover from the road," Aeden instructed. "Chances are there are bandits out here, looking for easy prey."

"I don't think bandits are stupid enough to get this close to Darkspawn," Alistair pointed out. "Even they have some survival instinct."

"Greed is a great motivator," I chipped in. "I wouldn't put it past enterprising individuals to start picking Ostagar clean in the upcoming weeks."

"Perhaps. I would like to go back there eventually," Alistair said. "Duncan deserves a proper burial, as does the King."

"My brother is lost out here somewhere as well. I have hopes that he wasn't at Ostagar when it fell… but there's no way to know for sure."

"We'll do what we can," Alistair responded. "Anyways, I'll volunteer to take first watch. I'm not too tired yet."

"We can draw straws or something once our camp is set up," I offered. "I know a few handy spells to help with the night watch. Trip-wire alarms, or the magical equivalent of. Should let us know if any Darkspawn come within a few hundred feet. Or humans, for that matter. Better yet, I can enchant this clearing to be invisible outside of a small radius. That could be useful."

"Invisibility on an entire encampment?" Alistair asked with some skepticism. "I'll believe it when I see it. Or rather, when I don't see it."

"Clever," Morrigan drawled. "It must have taken all of your brainpower to think of that one. Regardless, I am not that experienced with invisibility myself, so I would much like to see how it's done. I usually use other, subtler methods to hide in the environment."

"Oh? Now you've got me curious, I must admit," I replied. "I do know subtle magic, such as a repelling barrier that will make any wayward wanderers who come across it suddenly remember they have something else to do, and walk off in a different direction. I can set such a barrier up to do many different things."

"That does sound useful," Morrigan commented idly. "No, I was thinking something different. My mother is a shapeshifter of some renown, and she has taught me the skill. The Darkspawn do not eat, so they would have to reason to hunt a bird out of a tree, if I desired to take that form."

"Shapeshifting? I admit I have tried such things, but I could never master the technique. Can you take more than one form?"

"I can take the form of many different animals, but only those of which I have studied to some extent. Luckily, as I live in the forest, I have had many specimens in which to examine. Do you want a demonstration?"

"I do have a small affinity for snakes," I admitted.

"Snakes, really?" Alistair asked. "I guess that's better than toads. Though I wonder if Morrigan can turn herself into a toad."

"I can do a snake," Morrigan said, ignoring Alistair. "I like to use forms like that to scout an area. Bird's can't see everything up in the air."

I nodded my head, and instantly, Morrigan was changing in front of me. The transformation happened quickly, and in a few seconds, where there had been a svelte young sorceress, a medium-sized snake now lay, staring up at me and flicking its tongue out. It swiveled its head, and I could tell that Morrigan was contemplating whether or not to bite Alistar.

Getting down onto my knees I stared at the snake, and hissed at it, telling it to not to bite him. While funny, it would probably do more harm than good. The only response I got was the Morrisnake quirking its head at me as well as Alistair laughing it up.

"Something funny?" I asked him.

"Yeah, you were hissing at her. Like, sthhhh stthhhh stthhh. I've never seen something so ridiculous and amusing."

"I think she was about to bite you, which I would find more amusing than my attempts to speak with her."

"To each their own," Alistair dismissed. Morrigan took that time to change back into her human form. I had half expected her to come back without any of her clothes on, as I had heard happening to less skilled practitioners, but I doubt there was so much as a strand of hair out of place on Morrigan's head from when she had transformed.

"Why were you hissing at me? Did you honestly think I would understand randoming hissing noises?"

"I thought that by being a snake, you could understand snake tongue. Like I said, I have an affinity with snakes."

Morrigan shook her head. "Only my body changes. I retain full control of my mind, and since I cannot speak the tongue of snakes, that doesn't change when I transform. If such a thing did occur, I suspect that one could slowly lose themselves to the wild and forget what it's like to be human. My mother trained me for years until I had the magic mastered."

I shrugged. I didn't know as much about such transformations as I probably should, considering I did know quite a few people who could transform. It just never really came up I guess.

We set about setting up camp, briefly holding a meeting on whether or not we should start a fire. The consensus was no, since it was too risky, even with concealing magic. Being able to conceal the sound, smell, sight and heat of flames was not something I wanted to bet on, so we'd go without, at least until we were farther away from the Darkspawn horde.

Cleaning out an area for our tents wasn't terribly difficult. Moving sticks and the like wasn't something that really needed magic, though I did make sure the land my tent was on would be dry.

Alistair and Aeden set up their tents next to each other. They were quite basic, having been gifted by Morrigan's mother apparently, but would serve. My tent. however, was a bit more extravagant, at least on the inside. The outside was charmed to blend in with the environment, though not truly invisible.

The inside, on the other hand, was quite nice. I spent a lot of time travelling, so I needed a nice place to rest, and a little bit of magic allowed me to have some luxury. From what I could tell magic like spatial expansion charms were not really know at all in this world, so I didn't go around showing it off, but it was a nice place to be, especially with all the pillows and blankets, not to mention the enchanted shower. Yeah, that's not something I openly talk about either.

Morrigan, however, set her tent as far away from ours without actually leaving our small encampment. I didn't blame her, nor did I mention it as I started preparing the repelling enchantments.

I was a fair hand at such spells. I wouldn't claim I was the best at them, but I've spent the better part of the last five years camping like this, using these spells on a continuous basis. I'd consider myself proficient at the very least, and likely better than anyone else in a hundred mile radius.

I started off with creating the perimeter. That was fairly self explanatory. I just had to create the actual boundary that the magic would extend out to, which I did by scuffing a circle around our encampment. It was simple, but time-consuming, especially since I was aware that the other three were all watching me. Aedan had probably never seen magic performed up close before, and Alistair distrusted all magi on principle alone, though it wasn't unjustified. Morrigan was just curious, as the only magics she knew of were the ones that her mother taught her, and she knew that wasn't all encompassing. One of the reasons she was eager to go on this adventurer was the travel itself and to learn what the world was like beyond the Wilds.

The circle itself wasn't critical. Magic is only as hard as one makes it, and the more steps one takes to perform a spell, the easier it will be. That's why you have incantations, rituals, wand movements, even the wands themselves. I could probably complete all the spells necessary from the warmth of my tent, but that would take an awful lot of unneeded effort and wasted strength, with no guarantee of results. By going through the steps, I was able to ensure everything was working properly. By having a physical boundary, it made it easier for the magic to contort to my will.

The second step was deciding on the spells themselves. Well, sort of. It was usually smart to have an idea of what I wanted to do before starting. The order, however, in which I performed the spells was sometimes important. In this case, the first spell I cast would be the most powerful, so that's where I started. It was a simple repelling charm. Anything outside the circle would not be able to come in. The downside was that if someone from the inside left, chances are they would not be able to come back in unless they had significant willpower, or insider help.

I chose to inscribe the rune in the ground. Runes were like incantations, in that while an incantation was, in part, spoken magic, runes were written magic. Once that was understood, actually getting the runes to work the way you wanted to was merely academic. More runes would give greater control and precision, while a single rune could be interpreted in many different ways.

Spells to muffle sound, as well as smell, were next. And then, after that, I had spells to hide the spells themselves, and then a few magical protections as well. I knew the Darkspawn had spellcasters of their own, and it wouldn't do for one of them to come across the encampment.

Naturally, no place was impenetrable, and especially not a temporary encampment like this one. As such, I added a few early-warning measures. Alarms, essentially, if anyone was getting too curious. I left out the trap-triggers, since having a fox trigger an explosive hex during the middle of the night would be annoying, and would probably give away our position.

All said, it took maybe thirty minutes to raise them up. Normally, this would be about the time where there would be a campfire meal going on, but we settled for some dried food, knowing that tomorrow we'd be in an actual town with a tavern and a hot meal. Of course, I could have magicked up a warm meal quite easily, but I didn't want to spoil them, or show off my skills. Though, seeing the way Morrigan glared at Alistair when he asked if she could cook was quite amusing.

Inevitably, the topic of my magic came up.

"You didn't learn in a Circle Tower, did you?" Alistair asked. "I've seen enchantments for weapons and armor, but nothing like what you did earlier."

"The only limit to magic is one's imagination. I reckon anything can be done, given enough time. As for where I learned, a place very far away from here."

"So was I correct about the Tevinter Imperium then?" Alistair inquired.

"I have spent a lot of time there, but no, that's not where I learned my skills. For the record, I do detest most of what Tevinter has done in their history, but I was glad I didn't have to hide what I am whilst in public. Here, every commoner looks at me like I'm a piece of shit, but you get used to it. As for what I do know, it's been mostly out of necessity. Spells to hide my presence when travelling about become quite critical."

"Tis interesting," Morrigan said. "Tis why I prefer to be a bird, so I don't get chased off by templars for merely existing. The hatred some of them harbour is quite astonishing, and the ignorance…"

"Yeah, I get it," Alistair groused. "Mages don't like Templars. Everyones knows that from here to Rivain. But I'll have you know that I never actually took my vows. I saw the results of a failed Harrowing exactly once, and that was enough for me. I saw a young mage get possessed by a demon, and I saw her get put down. That's not the life I wanted to lead."

"That may be the most intelligent thing I've heard you say yet," Morrigan commented. "Though when it's merely the easy choice to not kill innocent magi on a whim, that's not saying much."

"Thank you for your kind words," Alistair replied sarcastically. "I shall sleep better tonight, knowing you think I'm smart that I left a life of being a templar for being Grey Warden. I do sleep better knowing that I won't die of old age."

"And I sleep better knowing that such a brave man is fighting the Darkspawn on all of our behalf."

Sarcasm was such a great form of entertainment, though it was hard to get a read on the girl. She had been isolated for her whole life, yet was quite intelligent and had a mean sense of humor… though sometimes she was just mean, but Alistair was quite good at being snide as well. She was trying hard to be friendly, but her social skills were quick lacking, and not something one could merely learn from reading books.

She handled herself well, despite it being obvious that Aedan and Alistair were becoming fast friends. You'd think with her and I being outcast mages, we'd have some common ground, but that wasn't really the case. She was less unfriendly to me perhaps, but we've only knew each other for less than a day and I could tell it was going to take a lot longer than that, since it was obvious that friendship wasn't something she valued that highly.

I didn't spare the others any further thought as I retreated into my tent for the night. The inside of it was charmed to be transparent, so I could see out through it while the opposite was not true. I had plenty of defensive charms set up, but nothing truly beat using my own eyesight, even if it was merely for peace of mind. That's all I really needed when I went to sleep, and sleep I did.


	6. Prisoner Harry

One of several HP/Warcraft crossovers I've attempted in the past. Written 2/17/2014

* * *

"Release me, Cretins!" Harry yelled, banging on the magical shielding that prevented him from escaping. "Release me from this cage at once!"

The adventurers shunned away from him, ignoring his deranged behavior. Harry Potter was a dangerous prisoner, and not to be released at all costs. This he understood, and thus he loathed anyone who came into the Violet Hold, prisoner and warden alike.

He had witnessed one escape attempt before when Lady Vashj had broke Kael'thas Sunstrider out around five years ago, back when Dalaran was still a city connected to Azeroth, rather than a floating fortress. He only learned who the escapee was after the fact, since there really wasn't much to do in this prison besides gossip, and Harry was one of the only prisoners who didn't also get freed in the process.

Needless to say, he had a bone to pick with this Kael'thas and his subordinates about leaving him behind. If he ever got out of this magical prison, he'd be sure to pay them a visit. It was just his luck that it looked like a second prison break was occurring.

By the looks of things, there had been a breach in the magically fortified ceiling, which allowed enemy forces to teleport in. It was all very fascinating, watching these blue dragons rush in, surprising the guards, and forcing them to call in reinforcements.

It was amusing up to the point when the dragons started releasing prisoners in a gambit to breach the doors and into the city proper. That is, every prisoner except for him apparently. He didn't know whether to be offended or flattered, but when it came down to it, he was pissed off of, being confined, and he just wanted to be released.

The adventurers that had come to the guards' aid were quite strong, easily handling the waves of blue dragons that poured out through the portals. A pair of swordsmen engaged the enemy while casters rained down death from above. The dragons (if they could really be called dragons - as they walked on four legs and had arms instead of wings) never even seemed close to landing a hit with their halberds, and the casters' spells seemed to have quite a devastating effect on the magic-resistant dragonoids.

It was all very interesting to Harry, when a smaller dragon-kin came rushing through a portal up to one of the prison cells opposite from him, and with a burst of energy, busted it open. It annoyed Harry that they'd release that scumbag Xevozz to fight for them, and he was very quick to bow the head before engaging the adventurers.

Xevozz was also very quick to die.

More dragons swarmed through portals, and more prisoners were released, but all Harry could do was watch in amusement as the adventurers held their ground. Eventually an actual dragon arrived, blue and scaly, with claws and wings and everything.

"I will kill you myself! In the name of Malygos, I will burn this city down!" the dragon yelled, her large head swivelling back and forth the scan the room, as if looking for traps.

The adventurers looked at each other, nodded, and then took up a defensive stance in front of the entrance. As they did that, the blue dragon's head swiveled over to where Harry was still imprisoned. He was the last one left, and the dragon seemed to be surprised that there was still someone left.

"Prisoner!" She bellowed. "I release thee, in the name of Malygos! Fight with me, and slay those who would oppress thee!"

The dragon bellowed, and all at once, the magic barrier that had been keeping Harry prisoner for too many years shattered in a shower of purple. Harry felt an ancient magic cloud his mind, trying to take hold. It slithered through his body, looking for a place to breach his defenses, but he wouldn't allow it.

The adventurers looked on with wide-eyes as the one prisoner they were explicitly warned about stumbled out of his cell before stopping shortly outside of it. They waited to see what he would do before making any overt actions.

"I serve no one!" Harry yelled, before he unleashed his own torrent of magic, eradicating the compulsion from his body. His magic had been constrained for too long, just below the surface of his body, just waiting to be set free, much like Harry himself.

It was raw, unadulterated. It flowed out of his outstretched hands in the form of a living inferno, devouring the food it had been starved of for the last several years. The fire raged through the room, using the magic that had saturated the prison as its catalyst, burning anything and everything, living and not.

Shouts of panic rose from the adventurers as they tried to escape the inferno, and a scream of agony came from deep within the dragon.

From outside the Violet Hold, in the city of Dalaran, all onlookers saw was a plume of smoke billowing out of the ceiling, then a soul-rending scream of agony, followed by several seconds of tense silence.

Just when it seemed to be calming down, a man was hurled through the door and out into the street in one violent burst of energy, then he remained still. Moments later, the rest of the band of heros ran out of the smoky confines, coughing up their lungs and gulping down fresh air in the process. They ran right past the assembled audience who came to see what the commotion was, trying to put as much distance between the prison and themselves.

Only a few seconds passed before another figure appeared, practically strutting out of the burning wreckage of the Violet Hold. He was nearly naked, with just the burnt remains of a shirt clinging to his shoulders as he strode out of the building, showing all the confidence in the world.

The figure seemed to ignore the gathered members of the Alliance and Horde alike, muttering under his breathe something that sounded strangely like "Who the fuck is Malygos?"

The assembled crowd did nothing but watch. Even the Kirin Tor council members present, Jaina Proudmore, Aethas Sunreaver, and their leader, Rhonin, did nothing but observe. A faint blush came to Jaina's face when she saw that the figure was completely naked, and Aethas just shook his head in amusement.

Aethas was startled though, when the figure walked over to Rhonin, point his finger at him, and declared "You! Give me your cloak now!"

Rhonin was so caught off guard that he found himself handing his Kirin Tor council cloak over to the naked man before he could realize what happened.

"This bike," the now-cloaked figure said, pointing to the mechanohog parked next to the wall they Kirin Tor were standing next to. "Is it yours?" Do you have keys?"

"No, it's not mine," Rhonin said, this time he was more on guard.

"Oh well," the man said, walking over towards it. He raised his hand near where the ignition was, and with an incantation that Rhonin didn't hear, the mechanohog started right up. Then, with as much grace as a naked man could have, he jumped onto the machine and kicked off, blazing through the streets.

All the gathered members of the Horde, Alliance, and Kirin Tor alike, ran off after the bike, looking to see where he was going. They could only watch in astonishment as the man followed the road and drove right off the side of Dalaran, plunging for the ground below.

Aethas Sunreaver could only voice one of the thoughts that everyone was thinking. "Did that naked lunatic just steal Queen Sylvanas's mechanohog?"

No one answered him.

The feeling of the wind rushing through Harry's hair, and around his man-parts, was something else. It was exhilarating. Up until the point where he drove straight off the side of Dalaran.

"When the fuck did this become a floating city?" Harry asked no one in particular, as he plummeted towards the ground in what would be a bloody heap of gore and bike parts.

He was quick to cast a slow fall charm, the same one that old Dumbledore used to save him from becoming ground soil during his time at Hogwarts. He and the bike floated down to a gentle landing and he continued to drive, heading north. He didn't know where he was, but it was bloody freezing. A warming charm would not help much without clothing, and he didn't fancy burning his gentleman's sausage.

The bike was actually quite nice to drive, despite its look. It was made of wood and exotic metals, with two giant mufflers on each side, and had a plethora of skulls and bones decorating it, all of which looked human. It was like something out of an apocalypse, and it didn't run of conventional fuel either. As far as Harry could work out, it ran on magic.

There didn't seem to be anything special about it though, no flamethrowers or invisibility, despite its magical fuel source. Harry had some experience with his godfather's flying bike, and if it came down to it, Harry felt like he could replicate some of the features. He was enjoying it too much though, to worry about any of that.

Harry had been lost since the moment he sat down, and when he suddenly found himself driving through snow, he just kept going. If anyone was pursuing him, which was a possibility, they wouldn't expect him to go north into the frozen mountains. Naked.

A few hours went by, before Harry's body started to go numb. His magic only protected him from the elements so much, and his body was aching and tired. It was getting dark out, so he parked the bike outside of a choice cave. Then, with wanton abandon, he braced himself with one arm against the rocky wall, and used his other to grab his member.

With a great sigh, he began to piss, the urine splashing into the snow, causing a great deal of steam to rise up. It seemed like he pissed for hours, but just as he was finishing up, he felt a dagger slide up under his neck.

"Don't move, human," a feminine voice said from behind Harry. He sighed. Of all the time to get caught, it had to be while he had let his guard down while pissing.

"How did you find me?" Harry asked curiously while he took the time to finish.

"I followed the ruts that your massive balls made from the stunt you pulled in Dalaran - taking Rhonin's cloak of all things," the woman said. "Also, I followed the tracks the wheels from the mechanohog made. _My_ mechanohog."

Harry smirked, and started to turn around. "Now why would a girl like yourself need a-"

The wizard stopped in mid-sentence and just started at the woman in front of him. She was tall, taller than Harry by several inches, and Harry was above average height for a human.

But this woman wasn't human. She was incredibly attractive, with her exotically pale skin, large breasts and killer legs, but she was definitely not human. Her blazing red eyes bored into Harry's own, and he got the distinct impression that it would be a bad idea to try and read her mind. There was something excitingly dark about her, something he found appealing more than just her looks.

She smirked at Harry, as if she was reading _his_ mind. It didn't take a mind reader to know what Harry was thinking though, as it had been a very, very long time since had gotten any action. Her smirk grew even larger as Harry's Harry twitched.

"Do you have a name," she asked. "Or would you prefer I disembowel you first, then raise your corpse to serve me for eternity?"

Harry was confident that he could take the woman in a fight. The problem was that she had the upper hand, and a knife at his throat. He had used a great deal of magic in escaping from the prison, incinerating the blue dragon, and blowing the doors off the place, quite literally. He was far from peak condition, and the adrenaline had worn off a few hours back.

"Harry," he responded simply.

"What are you, Harry?" she asked. "You're not like any human I've ever seen. I doubt Rhonin himself could have made such a spectacle out of that escape."

"Are you going to talk me to death?" Harry retorted. "Slit my throat, or don't, I've got places to be."

"Really," she deadpanned. "And where do you need to be, up here in the frozen North, fresh out of prison and completely naked?"

"I'm going to kill this fucker named Malygos," Harry replied angrily. "Do you know who he is? One of his minions tried to place a compulsion on me to serve him, and I don't take kindly to that. I killed the minion, and now I want to kill the master."

The woman laughed. "A vicious, streak, I like that. Unfortunately, You've travelled in completely the wrong direction. Malygos is the great blue Dragon Aspect of Magic… and he dwells within the Nexus in the Borean Tundra. To fight him is suicide, especially a magic-user like yourself. If that is how you wish to die, then by all means, I won't stop you, but I would like my ride back."

Harry shrugged. "Borean Tundra, you say? How far is that?"

"A thousand miles west," she said, removing the dagger from Harry's throat and walking over to her mechanohog. She was glad to find it intact and undamaged. She wouldn't admit it to anyone, but she was quite fond of it. Revving the engine, she was about to just take off before Harry spoke again.

"You didn't tell me your name," he said. "It's only fair."

"I am the Dark Lady Sylvanas Windrunner, former Ranger-General of Silvermoon, the Banshee Queen, and Ruler of the Forsaken," she said, flipping her hood up over her ashy blonde hair. She turned away from Harry, and without another words, roared off into the distance, leaving Harry to his thoughts. Alone.

"Well, fuck," Harry said, starting to shiver.


End file.
